Watch Us Run
by AvgHoneyBadger
Summary: La is in trouble. She's running from the demons in her past, hoping to start a new life in Forks, Washington. Little does she know Forks holds its own set of horrors, and perhaps a chance of healing as well. When she falls in love with a vampire, a series of events triggers a visit from the terrors of her past. Will love overcome? Twilight re-write, Emmett, OC
1. Changing Fate

**Author's note:**

One of my favorite parts of the original story was Emmett. I always lamented never getting to know him in the books. The idea of his type of character becoming a sort of refuge for a damaged person (like Rosalie)- helping them to find a place in a world that didn't make sense anymore- stuck with me until a character sprang up in my head. She was hurt, and scared, but strong and ready for a fight. She started hollering at me to give her a story, so I gave her Emmett.

This story is a replica of Twilight, but there is no copy and pasting here. The timeline has been changed, everyone is a little older. Bella hasn't arrived quite yet, though in my head canon she's still out there for Edward. You'll find the same major events, some similar conversations, but entirely different focus.

This was a labor of love and I'm excited to share it with you. Please follow, favorite, and review! I'd love to hear your feedback.

I genuinely hope you enjoy it.

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**1\. CHANGING FATE**

My name is La Davis.

When the loud clustering voices of my thoughts would clear away and leave me with only the dark places in the corners of my mind, a ringing voice in my head would chant it so firmly there was no choice but to believe. This had become a lifeline.

My name is La Davis.

I'd fought for this name, fought for my own identity in countless ways over the past year. Fiercely battling for my life with all my strength, because I refused to let fear and despair consume me.

A warm gust of wind buffeted me across the face through the open windows of my car, almost as if it, too, wanted desperately for me not to lose myself into bloody memories. I could feel them coming on, anyway, gently accompanied by the ebbs and flows of John Williams weeping out of the tiny speakers in my car.

To say this trip was a long-planned holiday of leisure would be missing the point entirely. This particular tour was a mad dash across the country which had begun abruptly south of Atlanta. I'd had a different car then; an old Honda Civic that had been trusty, and true. I knew when I started this journey it wouldn't be with me at the end of it. With over 250 thousand miles on the odometer, it was a miracle the Civic had gone as far as Chicago. Poor thing lost a cylinder an hour outside of the city, both land-locking me and forcing me to advance my deliberately orchestrated timetable.

The original plan was to pass through Chicago for a brief stop, then take the Honda back in a southwest direction- as far as St. Louis. Since I wasn't sure if I was still being followed, I was supposed to swap the car there, then move on to the next city in a fresh, unrecognizable vehicle.

The death of my beloved car, though early, had been a blessing in disguise; perfectly timed. Chicago had such a wonderful density of people it was nearly too easy to become invisible in the crowds. The constant buying and selling of so many vehicles in a concentrated area enabled me to get a manageable price on the Fiat Abarth I was now enjoying. The purchase had been discreet, cash down, with no questions and I'd even been able to get a temporary tag that lasted long enough to get me to my final destination. There I would be able to register the car under my new name.

The new car, new plates, and a daunting itinerary of roundabout cities were supposed to make me feel confident that it would be too hard for him to find me. Of course, none of this would prevent him from ultimately getting what he wanted, nothing ever deterred him from that. I could only hope by the time he found me, I'd be ensconced well enough to hide, or close enough to the Canadian border to flee.

My stay in Chicago lasted for over a week. I liked it so much I fooled myself for a moment into thinking the city might be big enough to hide in. Maybe changing my name was an overreaction. Maybe I could just bury myself into this fantasy of safety so deeply I would be able to forget. Maybe no one would ever find me again. Maybe the power of my will would make that come true. It's possible it could have worked, but the nightmares _did_ find me, even if he didn't.

The peace Chicago's bustling noise initially offered didn't last. After the first couple of comfortably lazy mornings in my quiet little hotel, I woke to find blood caked beneath my fingernails from several lengthy gouges in my chest and along my arms, and my sheets soaked with sweat. In my dreams, he found me so easily it was laughable. No lock on any door could keep him out, no city or township could be remote enough, and no chosen name could ever be creative enough to keep him from finding me. In my dreams, he was all-powerful and unshakable. His sly laughter rang evilly in my mind as he carried me down into the cellar where my cot was lovingly made up with fresh bedclothes. The smell of his sweat was just as pungent as it had been that first day, the scratch of the ropes around my wrists just as claustrophobic, and the terror just as real. These dreams were so much more than nightmares, they were a vicious combination of memory and terrifying fantasy. My brain discovering new unpleasant ways to intensify the torture.

While the brief pause in the nightmares I'd been enjoying had been a welcome reprieve, their return convinced me the Windy City was too close, too easy, too obvious. He would eventually find me there, so I stuck to the plan. I went to St. Louis and stayed with some friends, then moved on to Kansas City, where I spent only one night, feeling phantom eyes boring into my back the whole time.

I punched through to Denver and stayed in a youth hostel. They didn't ask any questions, not even for my name. Their relaxed hospitality settled into my bones and for the first time in a year, I let myself smile at a stranger, laugh at an oddly timed joke, and take a walk in the moonlight. I let the fluffy snow in bright sunlight, and astonishing view satiate my need for beauty. I let the kindness of the people I met act as a balm on my bruised and battered heart. When I left the high elevation and picturesque mountain roads, the compelling fresh air forced its way through the seals on the door and convinced me to roll the window down. The feel of the cool wind on my face as I flew further west was both electric and cleansing.

After the renewal of bravery and good humor I'd experienced in Denver, I challenged myself to spend time under the vast open skies of Utah. There was healing in this challenge as well, in forcing myself to seek out the beauty in forbidding places. Again, I found myself wanting to stay in Salt Lake, but a plan was a plan, and my uncle was waiting on my arrival.

On the way southwest, I noticed my urgency of flight had dissipated. I was driving at a leisurely pace, and taking time at roadside attractions. I even stopped at some of the small markets that seemed to spring up out of the nothingness that stretches in between truck stops, and I didn't keep an eye over my shoulder while I was there.

It was nearing the end of December when I landed in Albuquerque. While I found it too warm for the middle of winter, it was beautiful and endearing. It reminded me of my childhood in the desert, of days spent shoeless and carefree. It reminded me of bets with my sister on which of us could stand on the hot pavement longest, and my anger when she always won. It made me miss what I'd left behind so viscerally it was painful.

I missed her but didn't give in and call her that day, though I was dying for contact with my family. It wasn't safe yet because it wasn't part of the plan. I was still looking forward to a night in Flagstaff after Albuquerque, at least two nights in Las Vegas, one in Reno, and then on to Sacramento for a quick rest before the final leg of my journey.

Flagstaff was stunning. Covered in snow, with twinkling lights wrapped around every light post or stable column in the town. College students roved in packs back and forth through the streets, running and laughing, and too busy falling in love to remember it was Christmas. I remember the thought had startled me. I'd been sitting in an Irish pub, leaning over the bar, nursing a beer, and watching a couple play pool on the tables behind me. They'd been so sweet with each other, encouraging, and full of laughter. Snow was piled into the corners of the window frames behind them, and the neon signs were hung with holly and surrounded by wreaths. I remember thinking they must have been somewhere around my age, perhaps a year or two younger, and I realized if it was Christmas, it meant my birthday had passed, and I never noticed. Was I 25, really? At that realization, I switched from beer to whiskey and spent the rest of my night sinking into nostalgia.

The drive from Flagstaff to Las Vegas was one of such intense beauty that I spent the majority of it in tears. A long stretch of the 93 wiggles through an all but forgotten national park where Joshua Trees press in around the road on all sides. Their fuzzy branches lifted toward the sky, resembling hands reaching out to grasp at each other or perhaps some other nameless desire. The land is flat, dry, and extremely austere, and yet, it is so lovely it has a healing power all it's own.

The 93 becomes Interstate 11 as it crosses into Nevada. It seems the city lights are visible as soon as you finish the last corner coming north from the Hoover Dam. The flashing colors promise anonymity and distraction, even from afar, and I must say, the city did not disappoint. I found my hotel and only stopped long enough to drop my bags off before I was out to walk every inch of both strips, engage with as many people as possible, and drink myself silly for the first time since leaving Atlanta. I was there for somewhere around five days. I met a boy, though I'd never remember his name, and left him in my hotel in the morning on the last day when I headed out of town.

The seven-hour drive from Vegas to Reno was muffled by an intense hangover that left my body feeling heavy and numb. I checked into a motel and slept for 12 solid hours. When I woke I found myself feeling confused, but mostly refreshed, and ready to continue the drive.

It was strange to think I was officially nearing the end of this adventure. A journey full of twists and turns and every cliche, that landed me here, just outside of Reno, somewhere north of Yosemite listening to a bleak orchestral serenade as I sped my way west on Interstate 80.

I rolled up the window and switched my radio to an old favored audiobook. Rosamund Pike's strong voice came through the speakers in her laudable rendition of Pride & Prejudice. This would make the second time on this long, lonely road trip I'd turned to this particular story. It was easy, familiar, and comforting. Even after all these re-reads, it was still engaging enough to keep my thoughts where they ought to be- safely out of the past.

Sacramento was only a two hour drive away, which meant in less than three hours all told, I'd be able to call my sister for the first time in a month. Excitement and yearning pushed me through the drive and brought on a slight feeling of contentment with my arrival.

As soon as I entered the city, I found a store and bought a new SIM card for my phone. That first call was like a dam breaking. All of my fears and frustrations flooded out as soon as I heard my sister's voice. She listened and cried with me, and then pulled herself together long enough to say;

"You are allowed to live your life. Enjoy this time you've given yourself. You've earned it."

"I know, it just doesn't seem possible that I can heal from this," I told her. "Am I ever going to love again? How can I ever trust a person again?"

She sighed deeply. "You can, and you will."

"How?"

"You have to, La. You won't have a choice. As humans, we tend to be indomitable, generally, and our family even more so. The question isn't if you'll love again, it's when."

That was it. That night and the next I slept soundly and dreamlessly. Even if he could trace me this far- which he couldn't, not after all of my precautions- there was no way any person would expect me to go the direction I would be taking next. My mother lived just two hours south of where I now stood, in San Francisco. With her so close and accessible, what person would dream of going in the opposite direction? Which is why I wouldn't even let myself think of going there.

This wasn't the end of my trip. I had a couple of hard days ahead of me, but for now, I could take it easy on my way to Portland. I could enjoy the scents in the air, the breeze trickling through my hair, and the frivolity of a 19th century romance novel.

There was no way of knowing what could possibly come next, but at least for now I could rest easy knowing I did everything in my power to change my fate. After a month of travel, circling around, staying in zig-zagged cities across the US, creating as many misleading patterns as possible, I had officially earned my name. It was time to put that entire ugly mess firmly behind me.

My name is La Davis and for the first time in a long time, I felt hopeful.


	2. Arrival

**2\. ARRIVAL**

My arrival in Forks, Washington was accompanied with the same low lying cloud cover and near constant drizzle that obscured the sky 361 days of the year. This tiny town on the US border with Canada was, by most estimations, a dismal place. Forks was consistently wet, mildly cold, downright depressing, and a complete 180 from the deserts and mountain passes I'd spent the majority of the past two weeks driving through.

I peered through the tiny windshield of my new-to-me Fiat Abarth as I took a wet turn with more care than necessary. Raindrops splashed against my face through the open window, keeping my eyes from sliding shut as I straightened the car onto the final stretch of road toward my new home.

Sacramento to Portland, and then Portland to Forks were two arduous drives that I could barely remember. All of my concentration was bent on staying awake for this last quarter of a mile. The strenuous fear induced travel over the last month was finally catching up with me, and more than anything I was looking forward to collapsing into my new bed.

My favorite maps application gave an abrupt ding in congratulations to inform me that my uncle's house was in sight down the road on the right. I was finally here, home.

The driveway wound up a small hill and stopped directly in front of the quaint little two-story cottage. Trees pressed in on all corners in a way that looked cozier than it did forbidding. Though I hadn't seen the house since I was a small child, I recognized it straight away. I sat in the car gazing around, feeling inexplicably reluctant and unsure. A host of memories flooded me as I took in all the little details around the house, bringing with it the warmth of nostalgia.

There, directly in front of the door, was the bottom step that had given me an apostrophe scar on my chin when I tripped over it at age five. The memory of my mother jumping toward me in horror while my beloved uncle laughed behind her is crisp and clear despite my young age. To the right of the house, an old tire swing swayed slowly in the breeze of a coming storm on a thick fraying rope. My older sister used to push me in it until I was shrieking with joy.

In my head, the refuse of childhood was still spilling across the yard. I could see rocking horses, My Little Ponies, teddy bears, and soccer balls strewn across the grass with the careless affection that accompanies small children. Of course, none of those things were there anymore. No toys or small children had been a part of this house for more than 15 years.

Suddenly, the Star Trek theme blared loudly out of the car's speakers, startling me out of my reverie. It was my phone ringing through the Bluetooth connection in my car. This was a new development, as I'd only allowed myself a new SIM card so recently. The ring was much louder than I anticipated having spent so much time in the dull quiet of my lonely thoughts.

"Hi Kev," I said after a lengthy frantic search for the answer button on my steering wheel.

"Did you find the house okay?" My uncle asked without preamble.

"Yeah, I just pulled up," I answered, suddenly antsy to get inside as the first rolls of thunder growled angrily overhead.

"Great," he trailed off and cleared his throat before continuing. "Look, I'm sorry I couldn't be there to meet you."

I was completely aware that nothing would have brought him to this house short of immediate peril. His wife had passed away around this time of year nearly two years ago. After her death, he stayed in the cottage long enough to get his affairs in order then moved back into he and my mother's childhood home on the local reservation.

"No worries," I told him. It was better for me to have the time to settle in alone.

"Are you going to have everything you need? I told Sue to make sure there was food and the heat was on." Sue was a member of the tribe that lived on the reservation close to my uncle. If my memory served, she was a businesslike, no-nonsense sort of person and would have made absolutely sure the house was set up before allowing me anywhere near it.

"I'm sure everything is all set," I replied mildly. "Besides, I'm perfectly capable of feeding myself."

"Let me know if there is anything else you need," he offered. "I know it was a tough trip."

"No, Kevin. You have done more than I could ever ask for," I said. "But I'll let you know how the house is and I'll keep you updated. Are we still getting lunch tomorrow?"

"Absolutely!" Kevin was immediately brighter off the topic of our mutual tragedies. "You really don't mind driving all the way out to Port Angeles?"

"Not even a little bit," I said with a small smile. My uncle worked in the port town just under an hour north of Forks. I planned on meeting him on his lunch break from loading shipping containers so he could see with his own eyes I made it safely across the country. "I'll see you tomorrow."

Inside, the house was both everything and nothing I remembered. Without my aunt to fill it with her personality, it had the cold dead feeling that only comes with long vacancies in forgotten places. Even still, Sue had certainly done a great job of getting it ready. The rooms were all warm, the beds made, kitchen stocked, and every inch dusted. One would never know the place had stood vacant for over a year.

On Friday, Kevin met me for lunch just off the boardwalk. As soon as I saw the broad white smile in my uncle's familiar chestnut face, I ran into his waiting arms. He folded me into a tight hug and rocked me back and forth until I was willing to let go of him.

"You made it!" he cried, happily.

"In one piece and all!" I responded.

He gave a chunky, raspy laugh that was so uniquely him it really drove home that I made the right decision by coming here. We ate in a tiny bistro, had some fantastic coffees, then went our separate ways with promises for a long catch up later in the week. He didn't ask any prying questions, didn't wonder over my month-long trip, and didn't make me feel like I needed to explain myself. That was the best part about Kevin, and why he'd always been my favorite uncle. He was never nosy. I also assumed my mother had already told him the entire story, so there probably weren't any other questions to ask.

The rest of the weekend was blissfully quiet. Mostly, I spent my time attempting to fill the house with personality in an effort to shake the bleak, hollowness of the empty rooms. Unfortunately, I hadn't brought a ton of stuff with me on the trek. The decision to move had been so last minute, the packing so hurried, and the proposed itinerary so long it seemed silly to bring anything other than essentials. Eleanor, my sister, had committed to storing most of my belongings and shipping a few of my favorite things to me through a roundabout means. I made do with the items I had available and made plans to shop as soon as possible.

I set the house up room by room, beginning with the living room, and making my way through the kitchen then each of the bedrooms. Small details caught my attention, keeping me reworking the same decoration until I had each angle just right. When I was finished I collapsed happily onto the couch but noticed my armchairs weren't complementing the TV stand, so I started all over.

It was helpful that I already loved the house. It was also helpful that I was more than 3,000 miles away from the last known location of my tormentor. I'd done everything I could: purchased a new car, drove in circles across the country, and landed in a place I hadn't visited more than a couple of times in the greater majority of my life.

He wouldn't find me here.

The nightmares didn't return. Driving myself to exhaustion between cleaning and arranging each evening may have been the culprit, but whatever it was left me full of gratitude. Without the nightmares, I found sleep came easily allowing me to wake each morning feeling refreshed and energized.

The night before my first day of college in Forks, I opened a celebratory bottle of 21-year old scotch whisky I'd been saving for the occasion. I sat happily in my living room gazing around it fondly as I sipped the warm, smoky liquid.

Three thousand miles was a lot of distance to put between myself and my history. Maybe it would be enough, just maybe it would allow me the fresh perspective I needed- the space to breathe. I made a promise that night, over that whisky. Here, in this new town, I vowed to never think of my past again. I would not let it affect my future.

If nothing else, a vow could be a hell of a good place to start.


	3. First Sight

**3\. FIRST SIGHT**

The west parking lot for the University of Washington, Forks Campus, was a small paved rectangular area nestled up against the information center. My uncle had paid an additional fee so I could park closer to campus, and not get lost in my new town. As though Forks were large enough to get lost in. I appreciated the sentiment nonetheless.

My classes were scheduled Monday through Thursday with a heavy lab day on Wednesday. Monday was all lectures including some of my easier classes. Lunch broke the day directly in the middle at one o'clock, and then I was free again by 4 pm.

This would be very doable, I decided as I sat for my first lecture. A guy with short-cropped sandy blonde hair took the seat next to me and gave me an open, honest smile. I smiled back and cracked open my notebook ready to take notes.

The professor wasted no time going through the syllabus and diving right into the text. During a lull, the friendly blonde that had taken the seat beside me reached a hand over to introduce himself.

"I'm Mike," he whispered.

"La," I whispered back. He was nice looking with earnest blue eyes, straight nose, and strong chin.

"Note buddy?" he asked.

I gave a small smirk in return. "Maybe."

Mike gave me a large theatrical wink and sat back to pay attention. After the lesson, he gathered his things and fell into step beside me as I left the room.

"Where you off to next?"

I checked my schedule. "Northeast 3?"

"That's over this way," he pointed. "I'm in geological sciences in Northeast 4. I'll show you. So you're new here?"

"Yeah, I just got here Thursday," I told him.

"Cool, where from?"

"Atlanta."

"Georgia? Why don't you have an accent?"

I laughed. "Most Atlantans don't."

"Oh," we reached a cross in the sidewalk where he paused to point down the left fork. "You're down there in the building on the right."

"Thank you," I gave him a wave as I headed off. "It was nice meeting you."

"See you Wednesday, Note Buddy!"

I shook my head and opened the door into building 3, hoping mildly Mike wouldn't turn into an amorous problem. I wasn't here to date, after all, as if dating was even a possibility with my history. I'd had enough of that to last me a lifetime. Maybe I would never date again, and live out the rest of my life as a spinster. _I better start collecting cats,_ I told myself and snickered under my breath.

My next class was the lecture portion of the organic chemistry course that took place every Monday and Wednesday. A corresponding lab with a smaller portion of the people in this room accompanied the course material every Wednesday. By the time I arrived, the stadium-style seating arrangement of the room was mostly full. Up near the top of the room, there seemed to be a wide portion of seating available around one person, like a small buffer or safe zone, as though no one wanted to sit near him.

I made my way toward the open seats without looking terribly closely at the man and chose a seat on the aisle several places away from him. As the professor began her lecture I shivered and pulled my coat tighter around me. The misting rain had coated my hair in a thin layer of damp. It wasn't enough to wet my hair through, but it was enough to let the chill from outside seep into my bones. This weather would certainly take some getting used to.

The class went as expected, a sort of rush through the syllabus followed by an introduction to the textbook. Afterward, I packed up to leave rather quickly, hoping to find somewhere relatively dry to eat my lunch. I expected to be eating on my own as one does on their first day, but the thought of it left me rather melancholy and lonely.

Mike, the friendly blonde haired fellow from my first class, found me sitting at a table alone under a huge pavilion in the courtyard. There were three other people with him, all of whom were introduced, none of which I remembered. We chatted, and the rest of my day went by in a more pleasantly normal way than anything I had experienced in longer than I could remember.

The following day was much the same. I kept to myself, quietly consulting a map whenever I was lost. At lunch, I got caught in a downpour as I tried to make my way to the same pavilion I'd eaten under the day before, but got turned around in the rain, and finally had to duck into a small covered nook.

It was along the side of a building, and sort of underneath an overpass that was carved into the rock making a man-made cave. The walls were coated with concrete, which was again covered in bathroom graffiti, and small murals. One isolated picnic table stood in the nook. Its only company was a bucket full of cat litter to absorb the smell of old cigarette butts dotting the surface. There was no telling what the nook was originally intended for as it seemed to have no official purpose. Whatever that may have been, it was nothing more than a smoking section now.

The table wobbled slightly as I sat down and pulled out my lunch. This would be my quiet place, I knew it immediately. If no one was out here smoking in this downpour, then it was probably nearly never used. I sighed with contentment and spent my break listening to an audiobook, munching carrots until it was time for my next class.

On Wednesday morning, Mike caught up with me on the way to the class we shared first thing, then proceeded to walk me to my second class as well. This time his friend, Jessica, joined us and followed along closely, interjecting tidbits of information whenever she could and laughing just a little too loudly at Mike's jokes.

I vaguely remembered meeting her on my first day, but mostly all the names and faces ran together. During our walk, she mentioned being in one of my Tuesday classes. I got the distinct impression she was not impressed that I hadn't noticed. Even after a heartfelt apology for my rudeness, I left the conversation feeling she didn't quite forgive me. Judging by her puppy-like behavior with Mike, I wondered if her reticence might have more to do with Mike's enthusiasm over our fledgling friendship.

As we approached the fork in the path that separated the geological science labs from the chemistry ones, we made plans to have lunch together again. Feeling both relieved and disappointed that I wouldn't need to eat alone in the smoking section; I stepped through the door to my class. The seating arrangements looked much the same as they had on Monday. Mostly full on the bottom rows closest to the professor, thinning out towards the top, with a large semi-circular space empty around one particular person.

Finally feeling comfortable enough in my environment to pay more attention to the people around me I took some time to examine the pariah. He was gorgeous in an other-worldly way; pale with pronounced dark eyes, thick through the chest and arms, and even from a seated position seemed very tall. Nothing about his bearing explained the wide circle of empty seats around him. From my position, he didn't look dangerous or scary in any way, so I took the same aisle seat I had taken before and turned toward the lesson.

After class, I jogged quickly toward the lunch pavilion where my new friends were already waiting. As I bent to sit, I noticed the pariah from my class enter from the other side and join a table of three others a few tables down from us.

I'm embarrassed to say that as soon as I noticed them I couldn't look away. I stared in open-mouthed astonishment. What had been one pretty young man when he'd been by himself in a classroom turned into four of the most extraordinary people I had ever seen as he sat down. Each had the pallid look of someone that never sees the sun, but without looking unhealthy. They shone in a way. Pure beauty and grace even in stillness.

Each had a packed lunch in front of them, but no one was eating. They didn't even seem to be speaking to each other, all gazing off in different directions. One was a very slight female, sporting a dark pixie haircut that framed her face perfectly. She was twirling a strand of her hair idly and staring at the ceiling. Sitting to her left was a slender male of medium height with an odd bronze color to his hair, and a look of mulish boredom on his face. The third at their table was sitting to the pixie's right staring out from under the pavilion with his arms crossed over his chest. He was tall and muscular, but in a lean sort of way, with longish blonde hair pulled back into a bun.

The last was the guy from my class. Now that I was seeing him in the company of others I realized "thick" wasn't the best word for his broadness. He was huge. Tall, and impressively built like a professional rugby player. He wore a black v-neck with sleeves rolled up enough to show off the bulging muscles of his arms. Either he hadn't shaved in a week or he preferred the look, but the scruffiness on his face couldn't hide a strong jawline and plush lips. His hair was clipped short along the sides, but longish and messy up top like he'd gotten a haircut yesterday, slept on it, and then couldn't be bothered with styling it.

None of the four looked even remotely similar, and yet they were identical. All shared dark eyes with large sleep deprived bruises under them, translucently brilliant skin, and the stillness of statues.

"What are you looking at?" Jessica asked as I finally sat down, tearing my eyes away from the man long enough to take a seat before glancing back toward the four beautiful people.

One of the four, the one with bronze hair, chose that moment to look our way, as though his name had been called. His glance was quick and dismissive, as though he'd heard his name, but had already decided not to answer. He whispered something to the others that made the tallest one look in our direction. I quickly averted my eyes.

"Who are they?" I asked her.

She scoffed. "The Cullens. They moved here for college two years ago, and haven't made any friends."

It sounded like she was just mad they hadn't made friends with her. I did my best to hide a smirk and looked back towards the four. The bronze haired one had a similar smirk on his face, as though he'd heard a sardonic joke he knew he shouldn't laugh at. He turned to his companions speaking to them quietly, his mouth moving too quickly to read. The other three shifted toward him to listen.

"It's Edward, Emmett, and Alice Cullen," Jessica forestalled my next question. "And the blonde one is Jasper Hale."

"Which one is the rugby player?" I asked.

"Oh," Jessica turned to look. The one I was referring to looked up and caught my eye. He peered over at me in what looked like amused interest. Jessica dropped her gaze with a giggle, but I found I couldn't.

He continued to stare at me, a small smile playing around his mouth. I smiled back in timid invitation, but he gave a slight shake of his head and turned to his brother.

"Stop looking!" Jessica hissed. "That's Emmett. He's beautiful, but he's never showed interest in anyone."

There was definitely a story there, it was written all over her face. I wondered idly if he'd even bothered turning her down, or just ignored her. After lunch, I headed to my first lab of the semester, getting predictably lost on my way. I arrived just after the rest of the class as I had for the lecture, and was left with one seat at the back of the room.

It was a shared desk with Emmett Cullen. I slipped down the right side of the room and headed along the back aisle until I reached our desk. As I approached Emmett stiffened and gripped the table, as though he was fighting to stay in his seat.

_What on earth?_ I thought to myself, but concentrated on putting my bag somewhere I wouldn't trip on it later instead of looking at him. When I turned to face the front of the room Emmett had grabbed his bag and was pushing away from the table forcefully.

I looked up at him confused, as he glanced down at me. His eyes were absolutely black and spoke volumes of animosity. The look was gone in a blink of an eye, but it set me on edge, fearful.

Emmett broke eye contact and gave me a tight disdainful smile. The sudden change in his demeanor left me reeling and confused. He scoffed quietly and shook his head as though I had said or done something incredibly stupid. Only a few seconds had passed, and yet my world had flipped over. The moment had probably been invisible to everyone in the room but me. Before I could open my mouth to ask him what his problem was he stalked haughtily toward the door, allowing it to close with a loud snap behind him. The professor didn't even give him a second look.

Was it me? Did I do something? Did I smell bad? I tried to give my right armpit a tentative sniff, but I was fairly certain I hadn't forgotten deodorant that morning. All I could sense was my coconut shampoo… maybe he had an intense aversion to coconuts? Or maybe it had nothing to do with me at all? It could be anything, maybe he'd just received a bad text. Anything was possible.

I looked back toward the door, thinking there had been some kind of mistake, and that he would be back to explain what had happened. The abrupt break in tension left me exhausted as I continued to stare at the place he'd disappeared, as though I could ask his ghost what I'd done to make him hate me so immediately.

Nightmares returned to plague me that night. The only comfort was that they were a huge departure from the horror-fest I'd been experiencing. Less like the night terrors I was used to, and more like a cerebral confusion and curiosity-driven frustration.

In this version of my nightmare, I wandered a never-ending sea of trees looking for someone. I kept running in circles chasing shadows, knowing if I could just move fast enough I might catch a glimpse of whoever this was and understand everything.

In my dream, I started to sneak around trees, crouch behind rocks, and wait quietly to catch this person that was never actually there until I woke up gasping for air, covered in cold sweat.

Wednesday was the first time this nightmare disturbed my rest, but it was not the last. In the coming days, I would become intimately familiar with this stretch of woods, and this feeling of almost knowing.


	4. Small Talk

**Author's note:** When I started writing this book I heard a tune in my head that really set the tone as I typed. Once I caught it, I couldn't let it go, so I made a playlist on Spotify that helped shape the plot as I went. This chapter drew a lot of its feel from Hello Josephine, by Jerry Lee Lewis.

* * *

**4\. SMALL TALK**

The dreams continued because Emmett didn't come back. I resolved to demand an answer from him, but when break arrived that Thursday his siblings were sitting around a table under the pavilion without him.

_Fuck him, _I told myself. _Who cares what he thinks?_ But for some reason, I really did care. I wanted answers so badly it felt like a stone in my gut. With Emmett's absence that day, and no classes until Monday, I knew I wouldn't be finding answers any time soon.

The weekend was a struggle. My natural doggedly persistent temperament helped me quash thoughts about Emmett's reaction whenever they would arise. Unfortunately, every time one thought was pushed to the back of my mind, another would replace it. This consistent battle I was waging- and losing- drove me to seek out any means of diversion available. To that end, I spent a lot of time pacing and cleaning, rather than facing anxiety I didn't consciously understand.

At some point during all of my pacing, I decided Emmett would give me what I needed whether he wanted to or not. Monday morning, as soon as I got to campus I would find him and make him tell me why he reacted to me that way. Only, when I arrived at school, Emmett was nowhere to be seen. He remained absent Tuesday, as well. Emmett's sixth day of absence made me pretty confident he wasn't coming back and his enmity would remain a mystery. I'd almost convinced myself it had nothing to do with me; he probably transferred to a different campus for some other reason. As long as I didn't have to see it to wonder the cause, I was free to forgive him and forget.

In the morning of the seventh day, I stretched in bed and glanced out the window before forcing myself up, and grimaced. It was a particularly nasty sort of day. My view from the window showed a horrific combination of snow, ice, and miserably cold rain.

It only got worse when I got to school. The long, slow sludge to class was completely unenjoyable in a way that so consumed me I couldn't be bothered taking in my surroundings. This left me grumpy, flustered, and entirely unprepared to find Emmett in chemistry lecture sitting in the very back of the classroom with a noticeable ring of empty seats around him.

Unsure whether I should flee or power through I stopped and watched him, searching for any indication of his previous animosity. There was something very different about him. His skin was less translucent. It had a rosier hue as though he'd gone through some soft exertion, and the bags under his eyes were less pronounced. There was something else different, too… but whatever it was would have to wait. The lecture was starting and I was still standing in the middle of the aisle like I'd been struck dumb. Although it might be fair to say I had been.

_Do not to look at him again_, I scolded myself. Thankfully, he'd already taken the same seat he'd used last week at the back of the room. This put him far enough away from where I stood that he might not have noticed my gawping. I slipped into a seat in front of him and spent the hour fretting over what would happen in the lab. When the professor let us go I swept from the room in a hurry to be free. Even still, Emmett beat me to the communal eating space. He sat with his siblings talking and laughing, all of them looking like a scene from a high school movie.

I snorted in their general direction. It was so perfect a picture it could have been staged. As I sat with my friends I noticed warmly that I remembered most of their names, and that I liked most of them. The conversation was easy and just distracting enough that I was able to eat my lunch in peace. The seat I had chosen was at an odd angle to the Cullens that made looking in their direction unnatural enough to keep me from doing it.

"Emmett Cullen is staring at you," Jessica whispered to me over the table near the end of my break period. I froze, unable to turn to confirm.

"Does he look angry?" I asked her, and immediately wished I hadn't.

"No?" she asked. "Should he?"

"Of course not," I bit the inside of my cheek and chewed it for a second, then risked a glance toward Emmett over my shoulder. He was indeed staring, but not in an unfriendly way. I relaxed a bit and let myself stare back. When he didn't release my gaze I lifted an eyebrow in inquiry and felt the stirrings of a smile lift the corners of my mouth. He grinned back and fluttered his fingers at me coyly. It was such an odd gesture from such a large person it shocked another snort out of me. Apparently, I'd made the whole animosity thing up.

"Then why did you ask?" Jess prompted when I didn't continue. Her eyes flicked back and forth between us, clearly wanting more information.

"I just thought he might not like me so much," I slid my gaze away from Emmett to focus on Jessica, and set my back firmly toward him. I refused to look back in his direction again.

She scoffed. "They don't like anyone. …Well, they normally don't _notice_ anyone enough to like them, but he's still staring."

"Uhm, maybe you should stop looking at him?" I suggested. She laughed and pretended to concentrate on her lunch.

Eventually, my phone chimed a warning to get to class so I made my way to Northeast 3. I sat, trying not to notice the trembling in my hands as I put my things away. I wished briefly that I'd thought to bring a small bracing dram of whiskey when the chair next to me slid noisily across the linoleum. It sounded intentional; almost as if he was doing his best to make sure I was aware of his presence. My eyes stayed trained on my hands.

"Hey," he said softly like he was trying to calm a deer. Finally, I allowed myself to look up.

"Hi," I said. His answering smile revealed a single dimple on his left cheek under the short growth on his face, and it immediately warmed my heart. He was devastatingly handsome. My stomach did a tiny flip as I studied his face. There was a difference lingering in his features that I couldn't put my finger on. It nagged at me relentlessly as he settled into his seat.

"I'm Emmett," he continued, maintaining his conscientious manner. His voice was both gravelly and musical. Like several stones that had been well rounded in a river gently knocking together. "You must be La."

His word choice startled me. "Have we met before?" It was a dumb question. I knew damn well I'd never met anyone even remotely like him in my life.

He looked as confused as I was. "I don't think so, why do you ask?"

"I just wasn't sure how you would know my nickname."

"Oh," he looked away and stiffened visibly for a moment before he returned his gaze to me. "I heard someone use it in reference to you…."

Obviously, this had to be it, but it was weird he didn't seem sure. Regardless, I was too bewildered by the entire situation to continue the conversation. Thankfully the professor called a start to the day's experiment so I was too caught up in work to worry about him even as I was so very aware of him. Near the end of the period, we were cleaning our station and getting ready to compare our notes when I finally realized what the difference was.

"Did you get contacts?" I paused in my cleaning to ask him.

"Nope," he smiled at me again and my heart beat a little faster. I frowned at it.

"Why?"

"I could have sworn your eyes were a different color last time I saw you." I met his gaze in confirmation. Last time I saw him his eyes were black as night, a detail I would never forget. Today, they were a beautiful shade of greyish green like an ocean on a stormy day.

"Oh," he said again and made another shift away from me. He looked very uncomfortable. My frown deepened. "I don't wear contacts." His smile had disappeared, and he seemed at a complete loss. My thoughts were tangled in more and more confusion. Why would he lie about contacts? It seemed like a semi-normal thing to do. People wore contacts every day, right?

I finished packing away my beakers and Bunsen burner to set out my notes and calculations. Emmett was sitting still, equipment already packed away. I would have said he looked entirely at ease, but he had leaned slightly away and his hands were tight fists in his lap.

"So, umm…" I offered quietly, trying to get him to relax. "What did you get for pH 4 and 6? I'm not sure I calibrated my buret properly…"

He reached over and shuffled my notes closer to his for comparison.

"No, I think you've got it right," he murmured. "Those are definitely within the frame of error…."

He checked the rest of my numbers against his briefly, then added absently, "Shame about the snow letting off isn't it?"

Small talk? _Okay_. I gave a short bark-like laugh. "No."

"No?" He sat back and crossed his arms over his chest. "Why do you say it like that?"

"If it's cold enough to snow it's too damn cold."

"And you don't like to be cold, I take it?"

"I do not. Cold is nearly the worst thing. The only thing that can make it more miserable is wet _and_ cold."

"How on earth did you end up in Forks?" he asked through a deep chuckle. His shoulders seemed to slowly lose the tightness that had them scrunched around his ears.

"I…" _don't want to talk about it._ "Wanted a change and I have some family out here, and this is a good school."

"Even though you hate the wet and cold?"

"It's pretty here," I offered. "Stunning, actually."

He looked at me for a long moment like he was trying to figure me out. The same look of interest and amusement I'd seen earlier flicked across his features. I wondered briefly if I should be offended then I sighed and rifled my fingers through my hair, fanning it out. We had started leaning in towards each other during our conversation and I was looking for a way to break up the weird response.

My movement triggered another flickering facial expression and he leaned away from me quickly, turning his face back toward the front of the room. There was no way to be sure without asking, but it looked like he was in pain.

"Are you okay?" I asked him, feeling more curiosity than concern for his well being. He honestly didn't look like anything could hurt him.

He gave me a gruff nod and a small smile before he sped away. It was only then I realized class was over and we were free to leave.

"Just what in the fuck was that?" I asked no one in particular and slowly packed my things to head for my last class. Afterward, Mike caught up with me and walked me to the parking lot. As rude as it was, I found myself completely unable to follow his conversation until we were nearly at my car. The bizarre conversation from lab replayed in my head as Mike chatted amiably. _Small talk?_ After Emmett stormed out on me? What had changed? Better yet, why hadn't I demanded answers from him? That may have been my only chance!

"So what was up with that staring contest between you and Cullen at lunch today?" Mike interrupted my thought, dragging my attention away from my inner dialogue. He was clearly trying his best to sound casual, but failed spectacularly- bless him.

"I honestly have no idea," I told Mike. _If I'm really honest, I'd like to know myself._

"Well you said you were worried he doesn't like you, but it looks like he's happy enough with you right now." There was an inflection in his voice I didn't like. It was almost proprietary, and more than a little jealous.

"What?" I asked and watched his face. He only nodded his head in a direction off to his left. I turned to follow his gaze as we reached my car. Emmett was standing several cars down, leaning casually against a black Volkswagen hatchback. He was watching Mike and me intently, arms crossed over his chest, one foot kicked out before the other.

"Uh… I don't know what that's about." I said quickly. "I'll see you tomorrow, Mike."

I jumped in my car before he could respond and turned the ignition over. The low rumble coming from the exhaust brought me an absurd amount of joy that helped me shake off the awkwardness of my entire day. As the car heated I shook my hair out again, thinking of Emmett's odd reaction to the motion earlier. Odder yet was the entire conversation we'd had. Oddest of all was him standing there now, staring at me. What on earth did any of that mean? Why the sudden interest after that first day of abrupt animosity and his subsequent absence?

Once the engine was sufficiently warm I threw the gearshift into reverse and hit the gas. My distraction nearly caused an accident as a Toyota passed right behind me, honking aggressively. It missed my car by inches. _Whoops,_ I took a second look and backed out more carefully. Emmett was still leaned against the Volkswagen when I passed, watching me slowly roll away, shaking with laughter.


	5. Incredible

**Music note:** Bring my Cadillac Back, by Imelda May, and Bossy, by JD McPherson

* * *

**5\. INCREDIBLE**

The light leaking in past my curtains was much different than usual when I opened my eyes to the obnoxious dinging of my alarm. It was brighter and softer, and… _Oh no!_ My thoughts jumped to the conversation I'd had with Emmett the day before.

"_If it's cold enough to snow, it's too damn cold." _My words rang back with an awful sense of premonition.

I threw off my covers, darted to the window, and pulled back the curtain to find a thin layer of snow covering every inch of the yard and drive. Under that soft sprinkling of white powder, I knew, would be a hard layer of ice.

_Shit, shit, shit,_ passed through my mind over and over as I showered and got dressed. On the way to the car, my feet slipped on an invisible patch of ice sending me tumbling down the driveway. I sat in the snow where I'd busted ass and raged at the injustice of it all. As I sat there, shivering morosely, I decided I wasn't going to school at all. My key was in the door to get inside when I imagined going an extra day without solving the enigma that was Emmett Cullen. With a resigned huff, I turned back to the car.

The roads were well salted so I ended up having nearly no trouble as I navigated them. The west parking lot was a little trickier, with stretches of ice scattered throughout the maze of spaces. I pulled into my spot deliberately, then climbed out of my car. Using the side of the Fiat for stability I made my way around to the trunk using tiny deliberate steps where I pulled out my bag.

At this moment several things happened at once. First, a loud squealing sound tore through the air causing me to snap my head up looking around for the source. Second, my eyes met Emmett's who was standing with his siblings several cars away. His expression was one of paralyzed horror. Third, I found the source of the sound was a minivan sliding dangerously on the ice, careening out of control, and heading directly my way. I had just enough time to realize I was about to be killed. I was well on my way to accepting that fate when something hit me hard from the side. Whatever it was launched me around a truck that was parked next to my car.

A softly exclaimed profanity came next as the van bounced around the back of the truck and headed directly for me again. A pair of wide, long-fingered hands caught the van and pushed it away, but the front end continued to swing toward me. I heard another exclamation as those same hands pushed back against the runaway vehicle, leaving a massive dent in the side. The van tilted precariously on its opposite tires as I was swept away before it fell back toward us, now a safe distance from my limbs. Glass exploded around us and metal screeched as the van settled into place. All this happened in an instant and it took me a moment to realize that it was over and I was being held in place by cold, iron strong arms.

"La!" a voice sounded frantic in my ear. "Delilah, are you okay? Talk to me, please."

"I'm…" my voice had no volume. "I'm okay… I think…"

I looked up, definitely in shock, to find Emmett peering down at me. When he saw I was conscious he dropped me and squeezed himself as far away from me as the limited space would allow.

Shivering, I tried to stand but Emmett's hand was immediately on my arm, keeping me from standing.

"Don't," he commanded, voice full of apprehension. "You could be injured."

"It's cold," I complained, then glared at his thin laugh.

"I think you hit your head pretty hard when we fell, you really should stay still."

"Ow," once he said it I realized my head was throbbing. The slowed response made me consider the possibility I had a concussion, but I didn't seem to have any other symptoms. No dizziness, no nausea, no vision problems. Although shock may have been staving the worst symptoms off.

"How did you get to me so fast?" I asked him suddenly, remembering how far away he'd been when the van lost control. His expression turned very distant. It still held the humor he'd showed at my reaction to the cold, but now it looked like a mask.

"What are you talking about?" He tried to shrink even further away from me, which was ridiculous considering how large of a person he was. "I was standing right next to you."

"You weren't," I argued stubbornly. "I saw you by your car with your siblings. You weren't anywhere near me."

"Like I said, you hit your head really hard. You probably have a concussion." His face hardened into severity, but his eyes seemed to be begging me to stop asking.

"I don't have a concussion, Emmett," my own eyes narrowed at him suspiciously. I could hear medical evac working to get the van moved away from us as we huddled in the wreckage between two cars. "Tell me what's going on."

"Give this up, will you?" He asked quietly.

"No." My jaw clenched mulishly. He mirrored my expression and we sat staring at each other in silence until the van was nearly moved.

"Please," he finally said just before we were freed. "Just trust me."

"You'll tell me later?"

"Yeah, yeah, whatever." I noticed it wasn't exactly a promise but knew it would be the best I could hope for considering the circumstances. Once the van was removed I was loaded into the back of an ambulance against all of my protests while Emmett climbed into the front joyfully describing my head injury to the EMT.

At the hospital, I was given x-rays and put in a room to wait. The person that had been driving the runaway van was called Tyler, and he was in much worse shape than I was, face covered in scratches and bruises, with an arm in a sling.

"Are you okay?" I asked him.

"Me?" he exclaimed unhappily. "I'm fine! Are you okay? I thought for sure I was going to kill you. I've never been so scared in my life. How did you get out of the way?"

"Emmett pulled me out of the way," I told him easily.

"Emmett Cullen?" Confusion turned the repetition of the name into a question. "I didn't see him there."

"Yep, he was standing right next to me, and reacted quickly enough to get us some cover." _And catch a van, and push it away so forcefully it almost fell over on its side, _I continued in my head.

The man in question chose that moment to stroll in casually as if this was any other Thursday afternoon. I frowned up at him.

"And why exactly do you not need medical attention?" I asked him archly. He only shot me a smirk that did funny things to my heart rate and turned his attention to Tyler.

"How are you doing, you alright?"

"Fine, Emmett- damn I didn't even see you, man. I'm so sorry…" he continued with profuse apologies, explaining how he lost control on a patch of ice coming around the corner and couldn't ever get control back. Before he knew it he was face first in his steering wheel and a medical team was pulling him out of the car.

"Hey, it's alright, man," Emmett patted his knee. "No blood, no foul, right?" He chuckled to himself as though he'd made the funniest joke in the world then turned his attention back to me.

"I'm so mad you put me in here," I told Emmett. "I don't have a concussion, I'm fine. And I want to check on my car. Poor thing probably got demolished…"

"Your car is fine, I saw it when we were leaving. And you can't be mad, I came to spring you!" as he said these words an impossibly beautiful man in doctor's scrubs entered the room carrying a large manila folder.

"Delilah Davis?" he asked.

"Uh… yes…?" I stammered a reply, because not only was he model perfect, he was identical to Emmett and his siblings. I looked between the two men dumbfounded. Emmett only shrugged at me. The doctor, Dr. Cullen I now suspected, had the same translucent look, deeply black eyes with tired smudges under them, and the same brilliant complexion, but he looked far too young to be Emmett's father. Suspicions started coming together in my mind as I stared at the two of them. Their features were totally different, there was no way they could be related, could there? But why were they so similar?

"I'm Dr. Carlisle Cullen, I'm your attending physician for today. It looks like…" he pulled x-ray photos up and placed them on the backlighting display. I knew I should have been listening to what he was saying but instead, I was just listening to the beauty of his voice. It astounded me. It was musical, just like Emmett's but cleaner, without the gravel, and kinder.

"Sorry, what?" I asked.

"I asked how you were feeling," he looked at me doubtfully, then pulled a penlight out of his pocket to check my dilation.

"I feel fine," I told him as he started feeling around on my head with cold gentle fingers.

"Are you sure? Emmett says you hit your head pretty hard…"

"I did, but I've had worse," I winced slightly as he found a tender spot. "I'll take some Tylenol if I absolutely need to."

"Alright, well your x-rays look good so if you'd like, you're free to go…"

"Great," I popped up and stumbled. "Sorry… I swear that's not injury related."

Dr. Cullen gave me another disbelieving look as he steadied me with a hand under my elbow. A hand that was cold as ice, and firmer than flesh. Just like Emmett's arms had been. "Your uncle is here in the lobby to take you home."

"Wonderful," I thanked him and turned to Emmett. "Can I talk to you for a minute?"

A look passed between the Cullens that was full of meaning, but I didn't mention it as I followed Emmett out into the hallway, down a ways and into a small nook for privacy. He turned in a flash, expression hard with annoyance. Any words that I may have planned died in my mouth with that look. It almost reminded me of the first day he had seen me. The day I'd been terribly sure he hated me. I took a step back to examine him. After a moment I could see it wasn't at all like that first look he'd given me. It lacked the hostility that had been so apparent on that first day.

_He's faking annoyance, _I thought. _What secret could he have that requires him to scare me off?_

"What?" his voice was as hard as his expression, but I could see curiosity edging its way into the combination of emotions flickering over his face.

"You said you would tell me what happened," I said pointedly.

"Nothing happened. You hit your head."

"No, I saw you standing with your siblings. You were too far off to be able to get me out of the way. What is going on?"

"Let it go," he shook his head as he crossed his arms in front of his chest in a way that would have made him look truly menacing to anyone that hadn't been through what I had. Ego's meant nothing to me anymore. "Why do you care, anyway?"

"I don't know?" I answered him sharply, becoming genuinely angry with his treatment of the whole situation. "Because I don't like mysteries? Because I don't like lying without a good reason? Because when something incredible happens I need to find a way to make it credible? Take your fucking pick, it comes down to the same thing."

His expression grew more and more stormy as I spoke. "Incredible? What do you think you saw?"

I threw my hands in the air in frustration but tried to keep my voice low. "I don't even know where to begin! You were with your siblings, and then you were with me, and we were actively getting crushed by a van, and then you _pushed_ it away… and then you lifted it. I saw you _lift_ the van or push it again, or something. You almost knocked it over!" I shook my head.

"You think I lifted a van?"

"Yes," I answered. "I saw you. You saved my life today…."

He clenched his jaw and shifted minutely backwards. "If you're so certain I saved your life can you just thank me and move on?"

"Thank you," I said with as much feeling as I could express. "Really."

A long silence stretched between us, as I refused to continue. I needed him to explain what had happened; to assure me that I wasn't going crazy.

"You really aren't going to give this up are you?" he asked with another mix of emotions. There was no way for me to be sure, but I thought I detected a little admiration.

"No."

"Well, no one will believe you, anyway."

The thought hadn't occurred to me. "I wasn't going to tell anyone."

Something about my answer perplexed him. For a moment he almost looked like he wanted to bridge the gap, but instead, he turned on his heal and marched off without another word.

I thought about following him but realized if everything I was beginning to suspect about him was true, then he would almost definitely be able to outpace me no matter how hard I tried to keep up.

"La," my uncle called, getting up from a waiting chair weakly as I entered the waiting room. "How are you? Are you okay?"

"Totally fine," I assured him. "Just bumped my head a little. Not even a scratch."

"Okay, let's get you home," he pulled me toward the parking deck, arm around my shoulder.

When we arrived at the house I was impressed when he joined me inside for a cup of tea. He looked pained to be in the house, but also curious about the ways I'd changed it.

"It looks great in here, La," he poked around in the living room, then took a seat on my couch. "Like a totally different house…"

"You don't have to stay, Kev. I really am fine and will probably be going to bed extremely early."

"I'd rather know you're all right. Your mother would never forgive me if something happened to you."

"You didn't tell her did you?" I exclaimed.

"Hell no," he responded. "I am not that brave."

A sigh of relief whooshed past my lips. "Let's just… not mention it."

He lifted his hands in false innocence. "Sounds like a great plan to me."

Kevin stood from the couch he'd so recently sat on and announced his plans to retrieve my car, clearly uncomfortable. I thanked him and headed straight for bed.


	6. Heartbeats

**Music note:** This is a longish chapter so it gets 3 songs! First, Another Sunday Morning, by Black Raven. Second, Gone Gone Gone, by Carl Perkins, and third (of course) Sunburn, by Muse

* * *

**6\. HEARTBEATS**

My night was restless and full of that same nightmare that had plagued me at the beginning of the previous week. Now, Emmett's face was just visible in the darkness ahead, but he kept turning and walking away from me. I tried to follow, and sometimes he would stop long enough for me to catch up, but when I was nearly upon him he would be off into the trees again.

I woke Friday morning groggy and muddled, feeling incapable of any real activity. Instead of lying listlessly in bed I forced myself to rearrange my bedroom. When that didn't satisfy, I rearranged the spare room. Next, I alphabetized my books and set up the office until I felt calm enough to concentrate on school work. I did that for as long as my idle hands would allow until finally, it was late enough for me to shut off with some television and bourbon.

The next day was also filled with anxious movements and repetitive cleaning. At one point I found myself refolding the same shirt three times and had to force myself to set it aside. Once all the laundry was done, I started weighing out ingredients for a cake. The painstaking process of separating eggs kept my mind busy for a while. After it was baked and cooling I turned to the last of my homework. There wasn't enough of it to keep me occupied, even if I read ahead, so I whipped up some buttercream icing for the cake and drove out to the rez to gift Kevin with it. We had a short visit that returned me home, to a perfectly clean house, where I could no longer avoid what was keeping me so antsy.

The Cullens were _something_. What, exactly, I couldn't say, but all of them carried themselves with the same graceful assurance that was lost on every single person around them. The pallor of their skin gave them all the same look despite obviously different facial features. None of it made sense, yet all of it did. There was one main fact I was certainly missing that would help me put this all together, but for the life of me, I couldn't ascertain what exactly that might be.

Kevin came over to spend the day with me on Sunday bearing small gifts. It was pleasing to see him making such an effort to grow. Having him in the house helped make it feel more like home.

One of the gifts he brought was a small, perfectly preserved bird skull. The colors on the beak were still fluorescently bright, while the delicate bone in the dome had been bleached a stark white. The beauty of the tiny aberration, and the fact my uncle had been thoughtful enough to know I'd love it struck me deeply.

"Where on earth did you find this thing?" I asked him, as I turned it over in my hands. The bones were so delicate, it seemed as though they could fall into dust at my touch.

"I found it out on the rez," he made a wide gesture with his hands. "Your sister has a friend in taxidermy, so I sent it to her and she had it bleached and preserved for you."

"It is _incredible_!" I exclaimed and kissed him soundly on the cheek. I would need to remember to send my sister a thank you note and the gift itself would be a perfect reminder! I awarded it a place of pride on the desk in my office. Seeing it everyday would bring me joy as well as nudge me to send that note.

On Monday I looked for Emmett, but he must have snuck into class after I'd already been seated because I only caught a glimpse of him as he flew past me out the door. None of the Cullens appeared at lunch that day or the next, and I was ready to be disappointed again on Wednesday.

At this point, I was beginning to suspect Emmett was avoiding me. It was childish and silly but even expecting it didn't make it feel any better. By the time I got to the lab, I'd decided to ignore him. Hopefully, the pre-emptive decision might save me some hurt- it didn't. I was still feeling stung by how he'd treated me nearly a week ago at the hospital, and this avoidance was making it worse.

Emmett was already seated on his half of the desk when I arrived. He had a pleasantly neutral expression on his face that left his grey eyes cold.

"Good morning, Emmett," I said as I put my bag under the desk and opened my drawer. He half turned to me with a slight nod of acknowledgment, then turned back toward the front of the class. My jaw clenched closed at the treatment. What an absolute asshole. Is this how he was going to let this play out?

I soon found out this was exactly how he planned to let everything play out. Day by day we rotated around each other in silence, mutually aware, and adamantly not speaking, like a slow circular dance. At first, I thought we might last another week, but at the end of the first week of silence came the beginning of another with no change. The second week turned into a third and eventually it had been longer than a month and we still hadn't spoken.

I'd grown used to our silence. It wasn't awkward anymore, and some days I was even able to take cold comfort from the predictability in it.

Most of my time was spent between Mike, Jessica, and a lovely girl from our lunch crowd called Angela. She was sweet, unobtrusive, intelligent, and by far my favorite. Mike continued to follow me around like a hopeful puppy, while Jessica followed _him_. It was becoming a problem I didn't think I would be able to ignore for much longer.

Things came to a head when the group started planning a large outing for us all to get together outside of class. They had decided on dancing, so I decided to make myself incredibly scarce by taking a trip to Seattle where I could do some shopping.

Mike was helping me carry a particularly large piece of equipment I needed for chem into the classroom one Wednesday when he finally pressed me to make the decision about him long before I was ready with a plan.

"So hey, La," he began.

"Hey, Mike," I said back.

"Jessica asked me to go with her to the club thing next Saturday…"

"That's great, Mike! You're going to have a whole lot of fun with her," I did my best to put as much genuine enthusiasm as I could into my words, trying to make it clear I wasn't interested without the need to hurt his feelings.

"No, I told her I would have to think about it."

"You did what?" I asked him severely. "Why did you do that?"

"Well, I was sort of wondering if maybe _you_ wanted to go with me?"

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Emmett tilt his head in our direction, as though he was invested in our conversation.

"You should tell Jessica yes, Mike." A small pang of guilt stabbed me as Mike drooped with rejection. His eyes flicked reflexively toward Emmett.

"Are you bringing someone else?" he asked aggressively. His weird possessive thing had grown more and more apparent over the last month. My guilt evaporated on the spot.

"No, I'm not going at all. I've planned a trip to Seattle to get some stuff for the house."

"You can't go some other weekend?" He wheedled.

"Nope." My answer was brimming with finality but I still felt little hope he would get the hint. "You should tell Jessica yes. It's rude to keep her waiting."

"Okay, then…I'll see you later." he slunk off his perch on my desk. "Hey, don't forget about our trip to the beach this Saturday, though."

"I'm looking forward to it," I gave Mike a weak smile hoping to repair some of the damage my strong words may have caused. He slumped away, peeking back at me one last time before disappearing out the door.

I dropped into my seat rubbing my face in frustration. What a dimwitted, asinine, dumbass Mike was being about this Jessica situation. There was no doubt a next time would occur, and I was fairly certain I'd have to tell him outright to go fuck himself.

_No, that's mean. It's not his fault he's dimwitted._ I sighed and turned toward the front of the room and was startled to find Emmett watching me with open, friendly curiosity. When our eyes met he didn't look away for a long time. He looked sort of hopeful, I thought. The expression looked nice on him.

"Can I help you?" I threw at him, deciding staying angry with him was easier than noticing how nice he looked.

"Let's get started!" the professor called, interrupting our sudden intense stare down.

It was impossible after that to ignore Emmett, but I sensed he was struggling just as hard as I was. Finally, I gave up on my experiment. Nothing was coming out right, and my distraction was making the results go to pieces. I cleaned my station quietly and started crunching some numbers in my lab book instead.

"La," Emmett asked. His voice sent my heart racing after so long without it. Slowly I released a breath I hadn't known I'd been holding and looked into his black gaze.

"What, Emmett?" I loved saying his name, I realized, and couldn't decide how to feel about that. "Are you talking to me again?"

"Nope," he grinned.

I let the absurdity of his response hang in the space between us for as long as I was able. "Then what can I do for you?"

His lopsided smile lit up the room. "Nothing, I just wanted to apologize for being so rude to you."

"Oh? And why's that?"

"I don't know…" he answered and considered his next words before speaking them aloud. "I think I've given up."

"Given up on what?" I asked.

He leaned into the desk from his stool, looking completely relaxed. "I'm not sure yet, but I don't want to think about it too much."

"I don't know what that means." I let the silence stretch again, then shook my head. "You know what? I don't care. I'm not playing games with you. Either you're going to treat me like a person, or I'm going to go on pretending you don't exist."

He opened his mouth and then shut it again a couple of times before speaking. "That's definitely an option I hadn't considered."

I shook my head again and grabbed my bag to leave. Of course, the old, fraying strap chose that precise moment to give out and the contents of my bag spilled across the floor as the entire thing swung off my shoulder. I stood stock still fighting the urge to scream wordlessly into the void when a booming laugh sounded from behind me.

I turned to find Emmett guffawing uncontrollably at our desk. Watching him there laughing with such obvious, unaffected joy opened a flood gate in my brain and I laughed too. After a moment he finally stood and came over to help me collect my things.

"Thank you," I told him, feeling lighter than I had in weeks.

"You're welcome," he answered. "Can I help you to your car with this?"

"No, thanks. I can carry it," I said. "I have another class anyway. See you next week."

"Yeah…"

I walked away from him then, but I could feel him watching me all the way to the stairwell.

The next morning the Cullen's VW was already parked when I arrived. I got out and moved to the trunk to get my bag, but of course, dropped everything I was holding as the hatch door swung over my head.

One broad hand delicately plucked my car key out of the puddle I'd dropped it in. I looked up to find Emmett standing beside me, an easy half smile on his face, holding my key out. He dropped it into my hand without touching me and took a step back.

The half smile he'd been sporting grew into an infectious grin that spread over his face and before I knew it a matching one was spreading over mine.

"How do you _do_ that?" I asked him without expecting any kind of answer and turned to walk toward campus.

"Do what?" He took the bag out of my hands before I could sling it over my shoulder. I'd spent a large portion of the night repairing the strap with everything from thread to glue. It was as ugly as it sounded, but it held.

"Appear out of thin air, obviously."

"It's not my fault you're exceptionally unobservant, La."

"Oh, are we on this again?" I made a skeptical huff. His eyes were the color of stormy seas again. Even brighter than the last time they were this color, with vibrant green flecks tangled into the grey.

He chuckled warmly. "You're right, that's not fair."

We walked in silence a few steps. "The truth is I don't know."

"I see," I said, casually. "Are you planning on giving me any other truths?"

We approached the sliding doors of the building that held my first class. Emmett turned and leaned against the wall finally handing my bag back.

"No," he said mildly.

With a harrumph I turned toward the doors. "See ya later."

"Hey wait!"

I turned back and gazed up into his face. He leaned down enough that I could feel his breath softly on my face. He smelled of some type of musky cologne, or maybe it wasn't cologne, but could someone smell like that naturally? Either way, it sent my head spinning and I found myself wishing I could tangle my fingers in his hair and bring his lips to mine.

"Will you join me for lunch today?"

For a moment I thought I'd misheard him, as snarled as my thoughts were with the scent of him. "Yeah," I finally answered. My brain was doing flip flops and my heart was beating out of control.

"Great!" he said enthusiastically. "I'll see you later, then."

The rest of my day was a jumble of anticipation. Nothing taught in either of my classes had any chance of retention. Whatever happened during this lunch with Emmett, I knew I would be spending a lot of time afterward going back over the material that had been covered.

Emmett was waiting for me outside my last class before break. I didn't remember telling him where I would be, but I found I couldn't be surprised. He probably knew my entire schedule.

"Ready?" he smiled down at me, and at my nod asked, "What would you like to eat?"

"You know, I'm not super hungry," I admitted. Nerves would certainly keep me from being able to eat anything heavier than a snack. "Are you?"

"Since you've said it, I don't have much of an appetite either." Something about the way he said that made me think there was more to the story but I didn't press him. "We can do something else, though. Anything you want."

"Well… there's a covered spot right through here where we can at least hang and not get rained on."

I led him through the sliding glass doors that led out of the building, under a short walkway between buildings and up a flight of steps to the covered smoking section. No one else was there, as usual. I wondered if anyone else even knew it existed. We took seats on opposite sides of the picnic table and watched each other for a moment, uncertainly. I wasn't sure where to start so I concentrated on pulling out my snacks.

"I had no idea this was here," Emmett said like he'd read my mind.

"Well, you don't smoke, right?" I asked, and received a vague shake of the head. "So why would you?"

He spread his hands, palm up, in a brief gesture of agreement. "I guess you're right…. Do you smoke?"

"Not anymore-" My phone whistled loudly interrupting my explanation.

"Was that the Star Trek communicator whistle?" he asked incredulously.

I nodded absently as I tapped in my passcode and navigated to my texts.

"You're a Trekkie?" He asked and boomed a laugh.

"What, you're telling me you _don't_ like Star Trek?" I retorted, voice dripping with disbelief. Everyone likes Star Trek. At least _one_ of the six television iterations.

"I guess I like it? I've never really thought about it enough to have an opinion," he continued snickering as I checked my messages. There were four new ones in the group chat for the Lunch Crew.

"Well you must like it enough to recognize the communicator whistle..." I said, dryly. He pressed his lips into a thin line. _My logic is flawless,_ I thought and finally read the messages I'd been sent.

~Where you at, La?~

~Coming to lunch?~

~Did I see you skulk off with Emmett Cullen?~

~CULLEN?!~

I read them and rolled my eyes before typing a quick reply.

~Skipping lunch today, y'all. See you after.~

An answering question came back immediately.

~Still coming to La Push this weekend?~

I hadn't forgotten about the beach trip everyone was planning for Saturday, but this recent development with Emmett would make it an excellent diversion.

~Definitely.~

"Your friends?" Emmett asked, watching my face minutely.

"Yeah, wondering where I am." He nodded but didn't ask more.

"So what brought this whole…" I motioned between us, "thing about? I thought you were avoiding me or something."

"I was," he answered. "But I wasn't very good at it, and now I've decided not to."

"Do I get a choice in this?" I didn't like the way it sounded as though he'd already chosen the nature of our relationship.

"Of course," he said quickly. "The choice is entirely yours. I sort of realized by ignoring you I wasn't offering you any choice, either. Better to get to know you, and let you know me so we can figure it out, right?"

Emmett leaned forward over the bench, face earnest. I leaned in to match his posture.

"So we're friends now?" I asked.

"I don't know…" he responded honestly. "This is really dangerous for you, but I just can't avoid it anymore. I don't _want_ to avoid it anymore."

"Dangerous how?"

"I can't say, but I'm not good for you, I'm not good…" he shook his head.

"I think I'll be the judge of that." I sighed in exasperation. "Why do you always speak in riddles? What does that even mean? I never know what you're saying."

"That's alright. I don't even know what I'm doing so I guess we're even."

"Why can't you just tell me what you mean?"

"Would you believe me if I told you it wasn't my secret to tell?" He asked me seriously. I watched him and slowly nodded.

"Look, I promise to never lie to you, but this isn't something I'm at liberty to discuss, either."

This answer was both a cop-out and an opening.

"So I can guess?" I ventured.

"I really wish you wouldn't."

"I don't think that's true," I corrected him.

"What's not true?"

"That you don't want me to know. I think you do, so don't worry. I'm going to figure this out, and you won't have to spill someone else's secret. I have a couple of working theories already, anyway. Nothing concrete yet, but it's a start."

His demeanor shifted as curiosity suffused his features, but I could see he was worried underneath. Maybe he really didn't want me to know.

"Care to share?" he asked.

"Well that's hardly fair," I pointed out. "You just told me you wouldn't be doing any sharing! Why should I?"

He smiled again and I realized I might be falling love with that lopsided dimple. The revelation was not one I was comfortable with, but I found I didn't particularly want to stop it either.

"Okay," he conceded. "I can't offer anything, but I _will_ tell you if you're right or wrong."

That would have to do. "Okay," I agreed, then scrambled to get my thoughts together.

"Whatcha got?" he asked.

"Shit, now that I'm on the spot I don't want to say." I picked at the hastily repaired strap on my bag for something to do with my hands.

"Oh come on," he waved me forward as if the motion could draw it out of my mouth.

"It's bad," I said.

"How bad?" He couldn't hide the look of uneasiness on his face.

"I mean, just bad theories. I'm kind of worried you're going to laugh at me."

"I won't," he said, tense with interest.

"Promise?"

"Nope!" He grinned.

"So… I don't know!" I threw up my hands. "Everything that's happened? The speed, strength, and beauty?"

He gasped and covered his mouth with his hands. "You think I'm beautiful?"

I giggled despite myself. "You already knew that, as it's fairly obvious. What I'm saying is it just feels like all this stuff is like superheroes made real, or fairy tales come to life."

"Okay," he egged me on cautiously.

"So… ugh! Are you… are you allergic to kryptonite?" I cringed as I said it, and flushed.

Emmett let out a genuine belly laugh. "No."

"You weren't supposed to laugh!" I accused.

"Sorry." He did not look even remotely apologetic. "What else have you got?"

I narrowed my eyes at him. "Nothing really! If you're not allergic to kryptonite… you don't happen to be some sort of mad scientist are you?"

"If you're asking if I'm a scientist, yes. Mad? Maybe. But if you're asking if I turn green when I'm angry… definitely not."

"Damn. So no radioactive spiders?"

"None that I've ever seen."

"Any mutant genes, or super heavy hammers?"

"No and no, though I _really_ want a hammer now that you mention it."

The thought of him carrying Thor's hammer was one of such hilarity that I snorted out another giggle. "Emmett, I would pay stupid sums of money to see you in a Thor cosplay."

"Ask and you shall receive! Halloween is only 9 months away!" We continued to laugh at the thought. It felt freeing- sitting here with him after all this time. All the tension I'd been harboring seemed to drift away in that moment.

"You only mentioned heroes," he said after we quieted. "What if I'm not the hero? What if I'm the villain?"

I considered him for a long silent minute. "I don't believe that, Emmett. How can I? You saved my life. Villains don't do that." He looked as though he was drinking my words. Like he'd needed someone tell him he wasn't rotten inside. I reached for his clenched hand on the table but he pulled it back.

"Emmett, you're not the bad guy," I said seriously.

"I really want to believe that, but sometimes I don't know…."

My phone interrupted his reverie with a ding to remind me to get to class.

"I've got to go," I told Emmett, turning off my alarm. "Do you have a class coming up?"

"It's canceled," he said and reached for my bag. "Here, I'll walk you."

I felt another mild flush over my cheeks and was suddenly very grateful that I had the excuse of watching where I was walking instead of showing off my rosy color.

"So," he continued after a pause. "You'll tell me what else you come up with?"

"Maybe," I replied. "I might stick with this notion of you as Thor and not consider anything else. It's kind of hot!" I lifted my hand as though it held an elaborate fan and waved it in front of my face. He guffawed at my dramatic display.

When we reached my class he handed back my bag and took what was becoming his usual posture leaned up against the wall.

"I'll see you later," he said softly and twisted a piece of my hair behind my ear without touching my skin.

"Bye," I whispered and fled into the classroom.

This was easily my least favorite class. The university required this course for anyone in labs for science. In place of a professor, it was led by a TA that didn't seem to have a lot of experience managing groups of people. I had thought about dropping it before the midpoint in the hopes I would get a better TA next semester, but finally decided to get it over with instead. Organic chemistry and molecular biology took up most of my brain power, so while this particular class might be a TA led dumpster fire, it was easy, and could possibly save my GPA for the semester.

I took my seat next to Mike as our TA informed us that he would be demonstrating blood typing practices for the event a scientist would need to take a sample in the field. As soon as he said it I knew I should have ditched, but persistence- or stupidity- made me stay, anyway. If it came to it, I could just look away when he pricked his finger, right?

Wrong. The TA was so busy talking to our class he wasn't paying attention to what he was doing. Somehow, instead of pricking his finger he managed to gouge the middle of his hand and started bleeding profusely. In my haste to get away from the TA, I tripped and fell forward, landing next to him where his mangled hand was dribbling on to the floor. My vision contracted, the room spun, nausea gripped me, and I crawled frantically away.

Mike came to the rescue immediately, scooping me up and running me outside. Once I couldn't smell the blood anymore I asked Mike to set me down on the pavement and leave me to die. He didn't of course, but he did set me down, hovering over me as I pressed my face to the cold wetness of the sidewalk. I screwed my eyes shut, willing the nausea to abate.

Eventually, I realized a musical voice was calling my name. One that sounded like river stones, and crunching gravel.

"No," I told it. "Go away." The voice laughed at my response and I found myself following the sound.

"Mike, why don't you go collect La's things from the room? I'll stay here with her."

A moment later the voice continued. "Can you sit up?" it asked.

A cold hand fit under my shoulders and lifted me up.

"Try putting your head between your knees," Emmett continued. I complied because I couldn't really do anything else, and waited for the spinning to stop.

"You faint at the sight of blood?" he sounded much more amused by my predicament than any person had a right to be.

"S'not funny…" I managed through cold lips.

"No, no," he agreed. "Of course not."

Mike returned with my school bag and asked loudly, "Is she okay?"

"She's fine," Emmett answered for me. "I'm going to take her home."

"I can do that…" Mike began but something silenced him. "Are you going to be okay La?" he asked instead.

I tried to wave him off but only felt my arm flail feebly.

Emmett scooped me off the pavement as if I weighed nothing and cradled me into his chest. Lacking the strength to fight I rested my cheek against his chest and let the slow lull of his gait and the softness of his sweater against my face comfort me.

"Are you falling asleep?" he murmured into my ear.

"Maybe," I mumbled back. It was only when I heard the chuckle through his chest that I realized something was missing, but my brain was still too befuddled to figure out what that might be.

"Here," He set me down by the black Volkswagen so he could open the door, then helped me inside. Once I was settled and buckled in he turned the seat warmers on high before shutting the door and entering on the driver's side. My awareness was slowly becoming more solid and I realized I'd never told him where I lived.

"I'm off Highway 101, then east toward the reservation."

"I know," he answered and pulled out of the parking space in one smooth motion. "I thought I was going to have to take you home from the hospital the day of the accident, so I got your address from my dad."

The music that was playing in the car started to filter into my brain. "Muse?" I asked him, startled that we would have something so normal in common. Nothing else about Emmett was even remotely normal.

"You like them?" he turned it up a little.

"I love this song," I said. "The first time I heard it… I think I was 12 or maybe 13. I was in the car with my mom, and we were having an absolutely raucous fight. When this melody came on it felt like a balm. We both sat in the car and just listened until it was finished and suddenly the fight was over. I've loved them ever since."

"That's beautiful. Sunburn is easily my favorite off this album," he smiled over at me.

We sat quietly until the song was over, then Emmett restarted the conversation. "What's your mom like?"

"She's just like me," I laughed a little. "Dourer, and dryer, but she's silly too. And extremely quick-witted. She loves laughter and wine, she reads more than anyone I know. She gave me her love of science fiction. She's amazing. I miss her."

Sadness started to choke me up, so I stopped abruptly.

"Why did you leave her?"

"I didn't," I answered confused by the question. "She got remarried and moved to California about 2 years ago, right when I started college."

"Why didn't you transfer schools then?"

I blew a half hearted raspberry through my lips. "I was happy at Georgia State. I had friends, and an apartment, and wasn't interested in leaving any of that behind."

"What changed?"

"Life, the universe, everything," I offered.

"This isn't Hitchhiker's Guide," Emmett scolded. "I'm really asking."

"My uncle needed help with the house, my lease was up, I broke up with my best friend, and I wanted to see the Pacific Northwest. It seemed like as good a time as any."

Emmett pulled to a stop in front of my cottage but I didn't make a move to get out.

"What aren't you telling me?" he asked.

"Another story for another day," I smiled at him. "What about you? You have three siblings?"

"Yeah, Edward is technically the youngest, believe it or not. Alice is a couple of years older than he is, and Jasper is my brother in law through Alice. Carlisle and Esme adopted the three of us when they were really young. Esme couldn't have kids, but they wanted a family so they got us."

"What happened to your parents?" I asked.

"They died a long time ago."

"I'm sorry," I said, abashed.

"Don't be. They died so long ago I don't remember them, and anyway, Carlisle and Esme have been my parents for as long as I can clearly remember."

"And you love them," I hedged, though it wasn't really a question. His voice warmed when he spoke of them and a spark of good humor lit his eyes.

"I can't imagine two better people."

"You're really very lucky, you know."

"I do," he smiled.

"And your brother and sister?"

"Will not be happy if I don't get back to them before class is out," he said looking at the dash clock.

"Oh," I said. "Right." The two of us climbed out of the car. Emmett pulled my bag out of the back seat and slung it over my shoulder.

"A bunch of us are going down to La Push this weekend to spend some time on the beach," I tried my best to not allow my embarrassment to show. I'd never asked a guy out before. "Would you like to come?"

"First beach?" he asked and looked disappointed when I nodded. "I can't. Edward and I are going hiking in the Goat Rocks this weekend."

"Oh," I said again and felt matching disappointment. "See you later, then."

"About later," Emmett added. I'd turned to head into the cottage, but stopped at his voice and faced him.

"What about it?"

"I heard you saying that you're going to Seattle next Saturday…"

"Yep," I nodded.

"Would you like some company?"

"You want to come with me?" I asked, disconcerted by the question.

"Only if you wouldn't mind," he seemed unsure.

"No, that would be great." The smile that was spreading on my face was complemented by a very visible blush. This sounded an awful lot like that date I thought he'd just refused.

"Awesome," his smile matched mine and we looked at each other for an extra second. I felt goofy and giddy in the same instant.

"Give me your car key," Emmett held out his hand. "I can have Alice drop it off on the way home."

"No worries, I can take a rideshare to pick it up tomorrow."

"Don't be ridiculous," he motioned for the key again. "You're on our way home. It's no trouble."

Normally I would have downright refused, but I was already learning he was as stubborn as I was and the argument wouldn't be worth it. I handed the key over and thanked him again before moving inside out of the steady dribble of misty rain.

It wasn't until after I'd eaten dinner and was halfway through calculation corrections, when the happy fog of having a date with Emmett had cleared, that the nagging feeling of missing an important piece of information came back to me.

Emmett carried me quite a distance earlier, to get to the car from where I'd nearly fainted. The whole time my face was pressed against his chest. I remembered because it had been such a serene moment, listening to the vibrations his voice made through the fabric of his sweater. That softness of that fabric had been absolute heaven against my cheek, but even with all of that distraction I could sense something was missing. My pencil paused midway through writing a number two above a division line in my lab notebook.

Emmett didn't have a heartbeat.


	7. Scary Stories

**7\. SCARY STORIES**

The Star Trek Botswain whistle was going off incessantly in my room. I could hear it through the noise of my shower. There was nothing that would force me out of the hot water before I was ready, so I took my time shaving and rinsing my hair. When I returned to my phone there were more than 20 new messages in the Lunch Crew chat. After scrolling through to get the gist of the conversation I shot back a reply.

~On my way in 10, y'all.~

As soon as the message showed delivered I dove into my closet pulling on the warmest things I had. Sun or no sun, this was still Washington in February, it wouldn't get warmer than 45 degrees.

Everyone was assembled in the parking lot of the sporting goods store Mike's parents owned when I arrived. The swarm of happy collegiates had nearly filled all of the available spaces, but there was a spot left near the group that I could fit my tiny car into, so I swung in and joined them.

"La!" Mike called with a big friendly wave. "You made it!"

"I told you I was coming, Mike."

"Well, I think we're just waiting on two more unless you invited someone?" He eyed me expectantly.

"Nope," I lied to him effortlessly. It didn't matter; Emmett wouldn't be back in town until the next day anyway.

"Great!" The happy reaction I received triggered a glower from Jessica. "You can ride shotgun with me!"

"Thanks…" I looked at Jessica sheepishly, but the guilt wasn't warranted. I was able to wedge her between Mike and myself in the front seat, which made her very happy.

The road to La Push was absolutely beautiful. It wound through the dense green forest this way and that with random stunning glimpses of the wide Quillayute River. The others chatted and sang and told stories on the way while I did my best to remember anything about this place.

My mother told me we used to spend a lot of time in La Push with my aunt and uncle when we lived here. Both my mother and uncle were Quileute and had grown up just outside the reservation. When my uncle lost his job in San Francisco, he and my mother had moved back into the small cottage style house their parents had owned. The few times I'd come to visit him since moving to Forks myself, had ended there on the outskirts of the rez. I had yet to venture further in toward the coast.

Nothing looked really familiar to me yet, so I gazed around avidly waiting for some memory to pop up. We pulled into a parking lot designated for beach-goers beside little resort that blocked the greater part of our view as we approached the water. The view expanded by increments as we rounded the resort until, suddenly, the full majesty of the mile-long crescent appeared.

The sun was still rising over the rocky shore; the ocean lapping at it lazily as we approached. It was a breathtaking vision. Suddenly I had a memory of two girls sitting with me around a campfire… Rachel and Rebecca, if memory served. We would huddle around the fire while our parents drank beers and grilled out. I wondered idly if they still lived in the reservation or if they'd moved on.

Once we arrived I took a few more steps toward the ocean, watching it heave over the rocks, and beat up against the sheer cliff sides of the random islands that jutted out of the harbor. They stood like austere sentinels peering ever westward through the gloom. There was only a thin stretch of sand just before the water, the rest of the crescent was taken up with large round stones of varying colors, the gaps between them filled with moss, seaweed and bright splashes of other unnamable greenery. The tide line was littered with gigantic driftwood trees creating a stalwart wall against the ever-present beating of the ocean.

I watched the grey water for another long moment, thinking that it was precisely the color of Emmett's eyes when he'd dropped me off on Thursday. I wondered idly whether he would have come here with me had he not been camping with his brother.

The others had found a fire pit that had obviously been well loved and set to building a fire out of driftwood. This was clearly a familiar task to several of the people in our group as the teepee shape was sturdy and expertly filled with as many flammables as they could find.

"Have you ever seen a driftwood fire before?" Mike leaned over to ask me. I shook my head and watched as he lit a slender twig with a cigarette lighter. He fit the flaming twig into the debris under the teepee until it caught. "Watch this."

When the flames started to lick up the wood I noticed with some awe that they were blue.

"The salt!" I exclaimed.

"Pretty, isn't it?" he asked. I watched the fire eat its way into the wood and let Jessica reclaim his attention.

The chatter continued for several more minutes until someone suggested going to see the tide pools. I jumped at the chance as I hadn't seen them since I was a small child.

The tide pools were one of the first things that got me really interested in the sciences. They were beautiful little microcosms of oceanic life clearly visible to the eye and I found them fascinating.

The hike wasn't long at all. Before I knew it I was leaning over a large rock peering into a natural aquarium. The tide pool below me was full of brightly colored anemones undulating in an invisible current, little crabs hiding in their shells, a starfish stuck motionless to a rock as another crab tiptoed deliberately around it. I hung myself over a boulder, dangling my fingertips into the water, mindful about not disturbing any of the life as I watched.

Eventually, several members of our party claimed hunger was driving them to distraction, so we all headed back to the fire for some snacks. When we arrived there were several new people around the fire. All had copper skin and shining black hair; boys from the reservation come to socialize.

One of the lunch crew made introductions around as we approached and I noticed one of the newcomers turn in my direction as my name was said. He was one of the few wearing his hair down around his shoulders rather than pulled tightly back into a ponytail or in a braid down along his spine. It came to his waist in luxurious folds of silk that he swept aside as he faced me, expression full of open curiosity. He was wearing an old threadbare shirt that might have been red at one point, but had given up most of its pigment.

Mike brought me a sandwich just then so I turned toward a driftwood bench and dug in. After everyone had eaten the group split up to go see separate things. Some went up to the tide pools for the second time, others made a run into the reservation proper to get some more snacks, while still others turned toward the water for a walk. When my bench companion jumped up to join the hikers the man with that incredible hair came to sit by me.

I took a moment to appreciate him before he spoke. He was clearly Native American with beautiful russet skin, dark eyes set deep under a strong brow and high fierce cheekbones. His jaw was straight and pronounced and led into the graceful curve of his neck. His hair maintained the same appearance of silk up close that it had from the other side of the fire. It was identical my mother's hair before hers had become streaked with silver. I'd always been jealous of it growing up, as mine was a hybrid of hers and my Dominican father's. Jet black, but full of unruly waves.

I put him right around 20 to 22 years old, the baby fat was gone, but he hadn't completely filled out yet. His old bedraggled shirt hung limply on him. It couldn't disguise the residual gangliness of a teenager that still clung to his tall frame.

"Are you Kevin's niece? Kala?"

I went very still, blood draining from my face. As he noticed my reaction he smacked his forehead with the heel of his hand and moved quickly to cover his mistake.

"Crap," he swept his hair back over his shoulder and turned to me more directly. "I'm Jacob Black," he held out hand, which I took in a light shake as I listened to the bell's ringing in my head. I definitely knew that name. "Your uncle said you'd changed your name. I totally forgot, sorry about that."

I looked at him warily but found I couldn't distrust him. He had a sincere honesty that hung about his features, and he certainly looked contrite.

"It's Delilah," I relented. "La for short." I let myself welcome him with a smile, and let it warm as he smiled back at me.

"Kevin and my dad, Billy, are good friends. You and I spent some time down here on the beach together when we were little."

The faces of the two girls I'd remembered earlier resurfaced. There had been a third child, a young boy that was frequently hanging from Rebecca's skirts.

"Oh! Rachel and Rebecca!" I remembered. "I should probably remember you more clearly, too."

"No way," he said indifferently. "I was a baby… I think I might have been 4 or 5 when you and your mom and sister moved away."

"Right, right," I nodded. "We had to babysit you. Rebecca used to complain about it… How is she? Are they here?"

"No, no," he shook his head with a grin. "Rachel got a scholarship to Washington State so she chose the Seattle campus, and Rebecca married a Samoan surfer. She lives in Hawaii now."

"Whoa," I let the astonishment show. "Married? She can't be too much older than I am?"

"She's 25."

"Wow." Same age, much different life.

"So, what brings you back to Forks?" he asked.

"School," I told him. He gave a loud snort that earned him an expectant look. "What?"

"Didn't you get out of here already? Why would you come back _here_ for school?" He was bursting with comical disappointment.

"My uncle still lives here, as you know," I explained. He nodded at my words. "And he lost his wife not too long ago, so that was part of it. But mostly I just really needed to be somewhere very different from where I was."

"I can get that, this place is just so…" he looked around at the beauty surrounding him without seeing it and let the sentence trail off.

"Amazing? Awe-inspiring? Beautiful? Welcoming?" I supplied to which he laughed. It was a very good laugh, husky in all the right places. One of the girls I'd never warmed to noticed the laugh and interjected in a very insolent tone.

"You know La, Jacob?"

"We've sort of known each other since I was born," he supplied with another laugh.

"How nice," her smile was so venomous I wanted to smack it off of her face. The smile suddenly turned to an expression of obviously insincere concern as she continued. "I was just saying to Tyler that it was such a shame none of the _Cullens_ could make it today. Didn't anyone think to invite them?"

Her name was Lauren and she was an absolute snake; a vicious, petty girl.

"Dr. Carlisle Cullen's family?" the eldest of the reservation folks spoke up before I could spit a reply at Lauren. He looked very serious and suddenly unwelcoming, contradicting the statement I'd just made to Jacob.

"Yes, you know them?" Somehow Lauren was able to look down her nose at the man without standing up. If I wasn't so disgusted with her I may have been impressed.

"The Cullens don't come here," he said severely closing the subject. It sounded like he was saying they weren't _allowed_ to come here; that they were prohibited, but why would that be? I looked over at Jacob and found him watching me with heavy-lidded but alert eyes. I knew that look very well, indeed. In all honesty, if my head wasn't so full of Emmett I would probably be reciprocating his admiration. Jacob was a very good looking man. To my shame, the possibility of his attraction gave me an idea.

"You wanna walk down the beach with me?" I asked and gave him a sly smile from the corner of my mouth. It was wrong and totally unfair, but I needed information. If that heavy-lidded sexy look he just gave me meant what I thought, I could use it to my advantage.

"Let's go," he offered his hand gallantly and swung me up from my driftwood perch.

We headed toward the fallen bone white trees lining the shore, stepping carefully between multihued rocks. The clouds finally obscured the sun bringing an end to our beautiful day. The temperature plummeted as the sea darkened to an ominous color. Our conversation was light, easy, and full of merriment as we approached the trees. We walked until we found a large piece of driftwood that curved up from the sand with a branch stretching along the base, parallel, creating a natural bench. I waited until we were seated and comfortable before I brought up the reason I'd brought him out here away from the others.

"Who was that guy that was talking to Lauren?" I asked, trying to sound casual. "He seemed a little serious to be hanging out with a group of goofy college kids like us."

"That's Sam," he informed me with a massive eye-roll. "I don't know what got into him recently. He used to be a lot more fun."

"What was he saying about the doctor's family? He made it seem like he didn't like them."

"Yeah, the Cullens aren't supposed to come here," he shoved his hands in his pockets and looked away out towards James Island. I followed his gaze and took in the rugged cliff face and jagged top that was dotted with tall fir trees.

"Why not?"

He chortled. "I'm not supposed to say, it's a really dumb story. Actually, you probably already know it."

_Not supposed to say?_ That raised all kinds of red flags, and I was fairly certain I didn't know any story that associated the Cullens with my mother's tribe. I racked my brain trying to think of one but came up short. "I won't tell anyone. I'm just curious what all the doom and gloom was about."

He looked at me for a moment, making a decision. "I guess since you're part of the tribe I won't be breaking the treaty… assuming it exists." Then he lowered his voice and leaned toward me. "Do you like scary stories?"

"I _love_ them!" I let my enthusiasm show. He wouldn't know the real reason for it anyway. In fact, I hated scary stories. I had plenty of nightmares as it was without help from the horror genre of entertainment, thank you very much. This story, though, was one I needed to hear.

"You spent some time here as a kid, but you may have left before they started telling you the histories. Do you remember any of the stories about where the Quileutes came from?" The question seemed out of context, but I was willing to play along.

"Not really," I admitted, feeling ashamed that I never paid attention when my mom talked about it.

"Well, we have a ton of legends, some of them claiming to date back to the Great Flood. Your mom really didn't tell you this one?"

It came back to me then. "Oh yeah! She said the Quiluetes tied their canoes to the top of a mountain to survive it." But what could the Cullens have to do with the tribe's origin story?

"Silly right? We have a ton like that, but the one the tribe holds close is the one that claims we're descended from wolves, that they're our brothers still."

_Oh, right._ "And it's against tribal law to kill them," I finished for him. This tidbit of information had been a repetitive theme on the reservation I remembered clearly. It was so much a part of Quileute culture that I'd never thought twice about it.

He nodded enthusiastically and rubbed his hands together as though he could tie that sentence into his next one. "Then there are the stories about the _cold ones._" He let that linger, watching my face. This I did not remember.

"The cold ones?" I prompted, not worried about looking too interested. Jacob's intensity was catching.

"Yes. There are stories of the cold ones as old as the wolf legends, and some much more recent. According to legend, my own great-grandfather knew some of them. He was the one who made the treaty that kept them off our land.

"He was a tribal elder, like my father. You see, the cold ones are the natural enemies of the wolf—well, not the wolf, really, but the wolves that turn into men, like our ancestors. Others call them werewolves."

"The Quileutes are werewolves?" I asked in utter astonishment. Again, this was not part of the story I remembered. Perhaps my mother had left this part out. I thought about how that applied to Emmett and still couldn't see the connection.

"That's what the elders say, but do you see me sprouting hair from my ears?" he turned his head so I could see for myself. I giggled then made a motion with my hand for him to continue.

"So the cold ones are the traditional enemies of the tribe, but how does this all connect with the Cullens staying off Quileute land?"

"It comes back to this group that came to our territory during my great-grandfather's time. They were different. They didn't hunt the way others of their kind did—they weren't supposed to be dangerous to the tribe. So my great-grandfather made a truce with them. If they would promise to stay off our lands, we wouldn't expose them to the pale-faces." He winked at me. I rolled my eyes at him.

"What made your great grandfather think they weren't dangerous?"

He shook his head, face very grave. "Don't get me wrong. There's always a risk for humans to be around the cold ones, even if they're civilized like this clan claimed to be. You never know when they might get too hungry to resist." He deliberately worked a thick edge of menace into his voice. "This clan claimed they didn't hunt humans. Apparently, they were able to prey on animals instead."

Something in my head clicked into place. "And this fits with the Cullens because they're cold ones like the ones your great grandfather met?" I tried to force skepticism into my voice, but my heart was thumping and a thrill was tingling along my spine.

"No, they're the _same_ ones."

I stared at him, brain working a million miles a second. _The same ones. Cold ones. That sounded an awful lot like…_

"There are more of them now, a new female and a new male, but the rest are the same. In my great-grandfather's time they already knew of the leader, Carlisle. He'd been here and gone before the 'pale faces' had even arrived." He was smiling now, clearly proud that he'd scared me.

_Never aging, immortal, cold, no heartbeat. _My face felt stiff as I said the next words.

"The cold ones, they're…" I couldn't bring myself to say it.

"Blood drinkers," he replied darkly. "Vampires."

Goosebumps shot up and down my arms as I shivered.

"Did I scare you?" Jacob asked, torn between amusement and embarrassment.

"You're a great storyteller." I tried to laugh it off, but it sounded strained.

"It's pretty nuts though. No wonder my dad doesn't like anyone talking about it." He was silent for a moment, and then shifted uncomfortably. "Man, I hope I didn't just violate the treaty."

"You didn't if you're allowed to tell ignorant, wayward tribe members," I pointed out.

The sound of beach rocks skittering and bouncing against each other alerted us to the presence of another person. I turned to find Mike and Jessica walking down the beach towards us.

"There you are, La!" Mike called, waving his arm over his head. There was a possessiveness in his voice again. I frowned.

"Is that your boyfriend?" Jacob asked, picking up on the jealousy in Mike's exclamation.

"Absolutely not," my defensiveness made him smile.

"You should come out next time Kevin comes over to watch a game with Billy," Jacob said as we watched the two come closer.

"Yeah, definitely." I felt a little guilty that I'd used him but hoped we could forge a friendship out of it anyway.

Mike reached us then and took a moment to appraise his competition. I looked at Jacob again, too, noticing for the second time how pretty he was. If there were any competition to Emmett at all, Jacob would certainly be it.

"Where have you been?" Mike asked stupidly.

"We were just having a walk, talking about local stories," I told him and smiled warmly at Jacob in thanks. "It was enlightening."

"Well," Mike looked between us again obviously wondering what was going on. "We're packing it up. It looks like it's going to rain soon."

The sky did, indeed, seem to be roiling and setting up for a downpour. I popped up quickly, not interested in getting stuck in the rain.

"Okay, I'm coming."

"It was nice to see you _again._" Jacob was clearly ribbing Mike. I did my best to keep a straight face but lost it when Mike frowned deeply and stomped away, Jessica in tow. Jacob and I hissed giggles behind our hands.

"It really was," I agreed. "I'll see you soon."

When we got back to the Suburban everything was already loaded so I crawled into the back seat next to Angela and leaned my head back trying very hard not to think about everything I'd just heard.


	8. Nightmare

**Music note:** Shake, by Mad Marge and the Stonecutters, and Right or Wrong, by Wanda Jackson

* * *

**8\. NIGHTMARE**

When I got home I called my mom. The sound of her voice was so refreshing. Her clipped accent and direct questions immediately set me at ease.

"You sound good," she said, finally choking up near the end of our call.

"Thanks, Momma," I said. "I feel better."

"Well, I'm glad that place could offer you succor now like it did when you were a kid. How's Kevin?"

"Great, actually. A lot better than I thought he would be, considering. I think he's spending a lot of time on the reservation with Billy."

"Oh, that is good news. How about you? Have you been spending a lot of time with anyone interesting?"

Emmett's face immediately swam into view. "Nope!" I said too loudly and too quickly before backpedaling. "I'm not here to date."

"Mmhmm," she responded mildly. I could tell she didn't believe me, so I got off the phone making excuses about the necessity of concentrating on my studies.

As soon as I got off the phone with mom, I called my sister. She was with my niece and nephew so I was able to spend several happy minutes speaking nonsense about unicorns, and videogames.

After that I watched a documentary about Ruth Bader Ginsberg, and then a short one about animal behavior, doing my best to concentrate on the evolutionary distinction between phenotypes and genotypes. Once those were finished I didn't know what to do with myself so I took a shower and forced my mind blank. My subconscious inconveniently pointed out that all this compartmentalizing was becoming a bad habit, but I pushed that right out of my mind as well.

Once I was out of the shower I concentrated very hard on moisturizing my face, and my legs, and my arms. I put all my warmest, comfiest clothes on and lay in bed. As soon as I closed my eyes a vision of Emmett with sharp razor teeth and a frightening parody of his usual smile swam into view. My eyes shot open and I dove off the bed reaching for the box underneath it that contained all of my electronic detritus. A small box speaker was at the very bottom, along with a charging cable. I pulled them both out and set it up on my bedside table before connecting my phone and choosing a completely unfamiliar album.

My mother's second husband, Roger, had sent me a link to it before they'd moved to San Francisco and I'd never taken the time to listen to it. I pressed play and liked it immediately. The band had a grungy sound paired with steel-bodied guitars and stand-up bass. The lead singer had strong punky female vocals and engaging melodies. For a moment I was impressed with my step-dad, he nailed my favorite genre perfectly.

I concentrated on learning every chord, deciphering every lyric, and memorizing the harmonies of each song. By the third time through I was singing along to the chorus, the fourth time I was keeping up with most of it. Somewhere in the fifth cycle, I fell asleep.

My eyes opened to the same fern filled nothingness of a forest I'd been spending so much of my time in when I first moved to Forks. This time I was on my back gazing up towards tree tops that seemed to be a hundred miles away. The trees shot up from the ground, and off toward the sky at dizzying angles. Moss hung between the branches in looping dips creating a solid blanket of green. I pushed away from the ground, sitting up in a convenient bed of heather. It was spongy and damp in a way that seeped into my clothes without actually making me uncomfortably wet. I was warm, but I shuddered uncontrollably until I forced myself to start walking.

As my feet ventured through trees around me a slight tugging on my hand pulled me back. Jacob Black had my hand in his and was forcefully tugging me backward, away from a light that was slowly moving towards me. He looked terrified, deep lines were etched into the sides of his mouth, and his wide eyes were filled with fear.

"What's wrong?" I asked him, but the sound was so muted he couldn't hear me. "Jacob? What is it?"

He yanked me harder, but I didn't want to go with him. I wanted to see what the light was.

"You have to run, La." His voice came from everywhere at once and there was terror in it. The hand I was holding started to shake violently. Jacob yelped and fell to the forest floor groaning, body convulsing. Before I could attempt to help him he exploded. In his place was a large brown wolf with deep black eyes. It stepped in front of me and faced the light, shifting its weight, getting ready to spring.

Emmett stepped out of the trees before me. Now I could see that he was the source of light. His skin glowed enticingly as he motioned for me to join him, smiling beatifically with razor-sharp teeth.

"Kala, run!" Jacob's voice came from everywhere and nowhere.

"Trust me," Emmett said, motioning for me to join him again. His voice was soft as silk, not the gravel I remembered and his eyes were black as night and full of menace. My feet shuffled toward him, but the wolf at my feet blocked my path and growled deep in its chest. I shuffled another step forward as Emmett's smile, so unlike the one I loved, widened evilly.

The wolf lunged for Emmett's throat, teeth bared, snarl earth-shatteringly loud.

"No!" I screamed and dove forward, wrenching myself right out of sleep.

I blinked a few times, trying to shake the sleep away. _That was one hell of a dream, _I thought as I searched the covers for my phone, now dead from the Bluetooth connection. The charger was stuck behind the bedside table and by the time I got it out to plug my phone in, I realized sleep wasn't going to happen for me again despite the early hour.

Even after all that time spent actively avoiding Jacob's story my subconscious wouldn't let me ignore it. No more compartmentalizing for me, at least not when it came to Emmett. I took my time anyway, mostly out of habit.

First, I stumbled blearily to the bathroom and cleaned the dregs the nightmare had left out of my eyes. Next, I went to the kitchen and fixed some toast and tea. Back in my room I made my bed, put my laundry away, and then finally went to my desk across the hall in my office and pulled out my notebook.

The index was the first page. It was already scribbled with titles, notes, and page numbers. I paused, looking at the wreck of a page, wondering what I should file these notes under. After a long moment, I finally decided on "Inconceivable notions," and grinned at the Princess Bride reference.

The first fresh page was 171, so I wrote that in the index and flipped back to start my bullets. First I outlined Jacob's story, then I filled in all of the extraordinary things I'd seen Emmett do. After that, I created a cross chart to see how things connected. And just to be sure, I wrote down every single thing I could remember about vampire mythology. Once everything was finished I got up, brewed myself a second cup of tea then sat back down and stared at the pages letting my eyes jump from thing to thing, allowing my brain to make its own connections until I was too anxious to sit still.

I pulled some rain boots over my thick wool socks and tromped out of the house. There was a deer path that led into the woods from the back of the cottage, so I headed in that direction and walked until I couldn't see the house anymore. There I found a fallen tree that made a handy little bench so I sat on it and stared off into nothing.

Drops of water landed randomly here and there. I couldn't tell if it was raining or if the trees were holding on to water from yesterday's storm. The air smelled of musky undergrowth and living green things. Birds called to each other distantly; they must have been way above the tree line. I looked up at the tall ferns swaying in a breeze over my head. The foliage was so dense I couldn't see the sky, just an encroaching greenness.

This forest looked _old_. Like nothing had touched it for hundreds of years. In a place like this it was easy to believe myths and fairy tales could be true. That this land had frozen in time back when the Quileutes had tied their canoes to the tallest tree on top of the tallest mountain and survived the Great Flood.

It was nearly impossible to concentrate on the most vital factors. I started to panic, my heart racing, brain spinning, my vision going black around the edges. I needed more time, more time to breathe, more time to understand… and suddenly everything stopped. No sounds reached my covered perch. No drops landed, no birds sang, no beetles took flight.

I looked around and listened to my heart beat a slow rhythm.

Emmett was a vampire.

The world moved again. The rational part of my brain still rebelled at the idea. It was like Emmett said. This was not a world where fairy tales ruled. Superheroes did not exist. For vampires to exist was a silly, ridiculous, even inconceivable notion.

_This word, I do not think it means what you think it means._

Emmett was a vampire.

Impossible speed, incredible strength, shifting eye color, inhuman beauty, ice cold skin, no heartbeat, and that wasn't all. They didn't eat. None of them did. The grace with which they moved would make a ballerina cry, even Emmett who was one of the largest people I'd ever seen, was graceful as a classic dancer. There was the weird way his plans only contradicted mine once he discovered which beach we were visiting, the sardonic smile he'd given as he turned me down. The fact that he seemed convinced he was the villain, that he was dangerous was another telling hint that something wasn't right with his family.

Could the Cullens be vampires? My rational brain was screaming an adamant no. _Fine_, they're not vampires then, but they were certainly something. If it were true that they could be _something, _no matter how impossible it seemed_, _could that something be vampires?

When I put it that way - maybe. Having decided that, I could set the question aside.

The next important question was: what do I do if it's true?

What could I possibly do? Tell someone? Who? Who would believe me? No one, just like Emmett had said that day in the hospital. More importantly, what good would come from telling anyone, say they _did_ believe me? The answer to that was the simplest yet. No good would come from triggering a witch hunt. So, then why would I want to?

The next option for action, assuming all this was true, was to go back to ignoring him and try to start over with all this knowledge knocking around my head.

But why would I do that? Was I scared he would hurt me?

I thought about the accident in the parking lot, how he had been so genuinely worried I was hurt. I thought about his uneasiness the other day at school when I'd fainted.

The question again: would Emmett hurt me? Resounding no.

My brain went quiet at that and eventually meandered back to my dream about wolf Jacob attempting to tear out Emmett's throat. When the dream version of me had screamed "no" it wasn't in fear for myself, it was in fear of either of them being hurt.

In the end, _if_ Emmett was a vampire, _and_ I wasn't worried he'd hurt me, or that he even had malignant plans for me, did it matter?

The answer was very clear. It didn't matter. I think at this point my subconscious already knew I was falling for the man which made these ideas so much easier to accept. Even if I'd tried to stay away I would have been back here eventually.

With the decision made, I found it easy to concentrate on and finish my homework. I did some meal prep for the rest of the week and baked a pie to take to the reservation, before pouring a scotch nightcap and reading myself to sleep.

For the first time in what felt like weeks, I slept dreamlessly, and awoke refreshed brimming with excitement to see Emmett through these new clear eyes. I got dressed quickly, slammed down some breakfast and coffee, and flew out the door only to stop in my tracks in complete astonishment.

The sun was shining brightly with hardly a cloud in the sky. I checked my weather app in disbelief, thinking maybe we were having one lonely lucky hour, but no, confirmed two full sunny days ahead.

The drive to school was spectacular with both windows rolled down and my new favorite album blaring from my speakers. I arrived earlier than I meant to, so I made my way to the pavilion where we ate lunch and started re-checking some of my calculations for organic chemistry.

"La!" I heard someone call. It sounded like Mike, who was not the person I wanted to see, but the day was too shiny to be disappointed.

"Hey Mike!" I called back. He sat beside me and caught a strand of my hair that had floated away before tucking it casually behind my ear.

"I never noticed your hair isn't black," he murmured. "It's more like every shade of brown and blue…."

I shifted away uncomfortably and mumbled something noncommittal.

"So what did you do yesterday?" His possessiveness was still very apparent. It was time to put my foot down.

"I worked on chem stuff, and did some meal prep," I said distantly, mind racing to come up with a way to tell him to back off.

"Shit," he smacked his forehead. "I forgot I have an essay due for biochem. Damn, I was going to see if you wanted to go out tonight."

"Oh," _Perfect_. Mike had just given me an easy way into a difficult conversation. "Mike, I don't think that's a good idea."

"Why?" he looked genuinely dejected. It would have made me feel bad if I wasn't so frustrated with his complete lack of foresight, and annoyed by his flat inability to read the room.

I sighed. "Aren't you going out with Jessica on Saturday?"

"Yeah, but that's just…" His face took on a soft expression of realization.

"Mike, are you _blind?_"

"Oh…" he exhaled slowly, clearly dazed. I shook my head and packed my bag.

"I'm late," I told him and took off toward building 3 while he followed along meekly behind me. Jessica caught up with us right before I entered the building.

"La!" she was bubbling over with excitement. "Angela and I are going to Port Angeles tonight to shop for club night on Saturday. Wanna come?"

I gave her a short maybe and watched as Mike smiled timidly at her. My first class was made difficult as I couldn't concentrate on anything. All that was running through my head was what it would be like to finally see Emmett in person, to compare him to my theories.

My second class was made even more difficult because Emmett wasn't there. When I entered the room, the seats at the back of the room were noticeably empty, lacking one rugby player sized, possible vampire. At 12:50pm, I jumped up and ran for the door, then booked it over to the pavilion hoping he'd simply skipped class, and that he would be sitting with his siblings at their usual table.

The rest of the Lunch Crew was assembled, but the Cullen's table stood empty. My eyes swept through the pavilion. Maybe they were sitting somewhere else? No, they were nowhere in sight. I felt the blow in my stomach as though someone had punched me. Had they left? Had Emmett decided it was too risky to be here now that I might know? Maybe his family had decided for him?

Why in all that is holy did I not get his number when he took me home on Thursday? At the time, it hadn't seemed like I needed to. In a way, everything seemed so set, so permanent. There had been no doubt I would be seeing him very soon, and now I was beginning to think I may _never_ see him again.

The thought of never seeing his lopsided dimpled smile broke my heart. We didn't get enough moments, I didn't get to ask my questions… and now they were gone?

My thoughts were a snarling mass taking me on a steep downward spiral. At some point, I was attempting to make myself believe I'd made the whole thing up, and that was when I pumped the brakes. _This is your anxiety talking, you don't even know for sure he came home from the hiking trip yet._

Yes, that was it. He was probably still on that hiking trip with his brother. This calmed me enough that I could focus on the Lunch Crew. Jessica was still bubbling about the Port Angeles trip, I chose this moment to tell her I would definitely go with them, then turned to Angela to speak about inconsequential things, trying to take my mind off Emmett.

I moped through the rest of the day and did my best not to badger myself about it. The day passed slowly, but at least I had a shopping trip planned to distract me. I went home and changed, then switched my wallet from my school bag to my purse and turned on the TV to wait for Jessica's arrival. Instead of the knock I'd been expecting, I received a phone call. Mike had asked Jessica on a date, so she wanted to reschedule the shopping trip. I did my best to be happy for her but then found myself staring listlessly at a wall.

_Nope!_ I decided to make myself a picnic and read a book that didn't have to do directly with chemistry. I pulled an old dog eared collection of Jane Austen off a shelf. It was a hand me down from my aunt. She'd loved Austen and tried to instill that love in me, but I never quite got it until after she'd died. This collection was now one of my favorites and one of the very few books that had come with me from Atlanta.

Once my picnic basket was filled, and I found a suitable blanket I headed outside to sit in the sun. It was really very nice to feel the sun on my face again. It had been a long time. I nibbled cheese and read about Mr. Darcy and Miss Elizabeth until my eyelids got heavy, then I happily set the book aside and laid back to enjoy being sleepy in the cool breeze.

When I woke up the sun was going down and there was a small dusting of water covering me.

"Shit," I mumbled and gathered everything together. I'd left my phone inside and when I got to it, I realized I'd been asleep for nearly two hours. There were five new texts on my phone from Jessica, all crowing with joy about her date with Mike, though I wasn't sure why she was texting me instead of enjoying her date. I decided not to distract her with another text, I'd get the whole story the next day.

In the morning it was still very sunny, so I put on a short-sleeved black blouse with a deep v-neck. It was my favorite, but a little thin so I hadn't been able to wear it in Forks' cool weather.

I arrived later than usual, but the Cullen's VW wasn't in its usual spot. A quick search through the maze of cars in the parking lot showed it wasn't anywhere else, either. I was forced to the conclusion that none of the Cullens had come into school that day. When I took my seat with the Lunch Crew under the pavilion I was already expecting their table to be empty.

Angela, Jessica, and I made more concrete plans on our Port Angeles trip for that night and I tried to let Jessica's excitement rub off on me. It would be the worst kind of friend-tragedy for me to spoil her good time with my poor mood. Anyway, I was pretty sure there was a bookstore in Port Angeles that might be able to help me flesh out my current collection. I'd left so many of my books in Georgia the shelf in my office looked really sad. What I didn't let myself think, was that I might just be shopping in Seattle by myself on Saturday if Emmett was no longer interested in our plan.


	9. Heroes & Villains

**Music Note: **Outlaw Heart, by Tiger Army, and Sticks & Stones, by The Creepshow

**9\. HEROS & VILLAINS**

After my last class, I went straight home to ditch my bag and car before Jessica picked Angela and me up to go to Port Angeles. My previous visits had been lunch dates with my uncle that left little room for exploring. Both of the girls with me were flabbergasted to find that I wasn't very familiar with the available shopping in the tiny port town.

We spent the hour-long ride gossiping and listening to whiny rock love songs. Jessica jabbered on about Mike- apparently, their dinner had gone very well, and she was looking forward to their first kiss at the club. Angela mentioned that while she was excited to go with everyone to the club she wasn't very interested in her date. Jessica immediately turned on her to prize out who it was she was interested in, completely unaware, or unapologetic when Angela grew very uncomfortable.

I redirected Jessica's energy by asking some questions about the dress she was looking for. Angela shot me a grateful glance, and I wondered briefly what either of us were doing hanging out with such a hyena.

Before too long Port Angeles came into view. It was a charming little tourist trap, fully polished and ready for the meager tourism that crossed over from Canada. As both Jessica and Angela knew Port Angeles well, they wasted no time on the pretty boardwalk and went directly to the largest department store in the bay.

Their selection of clothes wasn't large, but we each found a few things we liked while we continued to gossip over the racks. At one point while Jessica was busy in the fitting rooms with a stack of clothes taller than she was I took the chance to ask Angela a question I didn't want overheard.

"Angela?" I started and choked up. She was trying on a pair of strappy sandal heels. I could hear her faintly cooing at them.

"What's up?" She asked as she stood to take a few steps.

"You should definitely get those," I fully chickened out. "They look amazing."

A very un-Angela devilish look came across her face. "I think I will, it's not every day I go on a date with someone tall enough for me to wear heels."

"So, uhh…" I tried again and already realized my effort at nonchalance was not being bought when Angela gave me a sharp look. I decided to just go for it knowing Angela wouldn't judge me, anyway. "Is it normal for the Cullens to be away a lot?"

Angela nodded as though she was expecting the question. "Honestly, I haven't noticed. But my dad did tell me once that Dr. Cullen takes the whole family out to camp or hike when the weather is nice. He only mentioned it because sometimes it can be difficult to find coverage at the hospital. I guess it's in Dr. Cullen's contract or something."

Once she was finished she turned back to her shoes without asking a follow-up question. I was grateful she'd come on this trip. Jessica would have tried to dissect me if she thought it would get her some good gossip.

There was a little Italian restaurant by the boardwalk we'd passed earlier that looked relatively enticing. We decided to go there for dinner before heading back to Forks, only we finished shopping significantly earlier than any of us expected. Jessica mentioned a bookshop a few blocks over that may have some of the things I was looking for so I headed in that direction while they did some other shopping. Angela offered to come with me, but I get really absorbed in bookstores and knew I wouldn't be any kind of company.

I made my way over to the store but saw immediately that it wasn't the type of shop I was looking for. There were crystals on display on one side of the window of the door while the other side showed a sign for discount tarot readings. A friendly looking woman with big, fly-away gray hair was sitting behind the counter, hand heavy with flashy rings lifted in welcome. I didn't even bother going inside, giving the woman a small wave in apology.

In hindsight, I should have asked the old hippie for directions, but I figured I'd be able to find something on my own. After a quick search on my phone, I discovered a store located several blocks further into town, away from the tourist-friendly face of Port Angeles. The GPS on my phone wasn't picking up, but I thought I'd be able to find it without the help, anyway.

After several blocks the rosy friendly store fronts began to disappear. In their place came vacancies with boards over the windows, and walls covered in graffiti. Somewhere along the way I must have taken a wrong turn into a less reputable part of town. The streets became inhospitable as I walked. I started to notice heaps of trash piled in corners, long stretches of silence between cars that passed, and empty lots full of tall, unkempt weeds.

A group of men came around a corner and walked toward me on the sidewalk. I kept my head down to walk past them, hoping they were just minding their own business like I was.

"Hey there!" one of them called as I approached. I looked up out of reflex, gave him a grim nod, and continued on my way. No one else was around. Two of the four men stopped to watch me walk away, while the others slowed down to wait. The one that had spoken was short, heavy set, and wearing an old, dirty flannel shirt over grease-stained jeans.

"Wait a minute!" he called again as I passed without slowing.

I moved quickly, not at a run- running draws attention, and quickly turned a corner. I found myself on an empty stretch of road with no shops and an industrial complex taking up the entirety of the right side of the street. This was a mistake. I moved even more quickly. No cars passed, no city sounds reached me where I stood. I was utterly alone and possibly in danger.

A rock skittered behind me. I glanced back and found two of the men following me. _Fuck,_ I was being herded. My steps slowed as I tried to come up with a plan. The next cross street was a dead end, so I hurried to the next one, swinging my bag off my shoulder. Maybe I could hit one of them with it.

At the next corner, I looked up and noticed a cross sign that read Angel Industrial Road. I rounded it hoping there would be more people but knew immediately the street sign indicated I was stuck in a wasteland of vacant warehouses. When I finished the turn I was confronted with a small amount of hope mixed with absolute defeat. There were cars and lights and people that I could see… three blocks down. Between myself and the lights of safety stood the other two men. Just as I had expected, I had been herded toward them.

_Don't panic,_ I reminded myself as my heart sped and a thrill of fear that made my fingers go numb ran through me. Could I scream? Would I make it if I ran down another block? Could I duck around them?

"There you are!" The stocky dark-haired man called. I jumped out of my skin, but he wasn't speaking to me. The two behind me laughed evilly. I imagined two cartoon weasel henchmen guffawing at their pack leader's insolent joking and felt anger stir in my gut.

"Stay away from me," I warned and planted my feet.

"Don't be like that, sugar," the man cooed. I felt my lips draw back over my teeth in a hiss I didn't expect. I knew I wouldn't win, but I was angry enough to try. How _dare_ these little pieces of shit make it unsafe for women to walk at night. How _dare_ these weak excuses for humans even exist. I was _pissed_.

The stocky man drew up short at my expression for a moment, taken aback, I thought, that I was willing to stand up to him without fear. The truth was that I was downright terrified, but that fear was for me, not for him, and I wouldn't grant him access to that.

In that moment, headlights flew around the corner with the screeching of tires. The greasy, stocky man jumped back away from me to avoid being hit. I jumped into the road to stop the car, but it was already braking.

"Get in," a voice commanded. Fear vanished instantly. I jumped into the passenger seat and slammed the door behind me. We were squealing away before the door was fully shut. I caught a flash of my would-be-attackers diving for safety as Emmett spun the car around and headed away from Port Angeles.

We sped away for several minutes in silence at a speed that was ludicrous for the quiet streets around us. I put my seatbelt on quietly while I watched his face. His jaw was strained, teeth locked together, but the sound of my seatbelt clicking home softened his expression.

"Are you okay?" I asked him. He looked at me, puzzled.

"Am _I_ okay?" he asked sharply.

"Yeah, you look…" I shrugged. He looked ready to kill someone, and I didn't mean that lightly. He pulled to the side of the road in a dark spot that was covered with trees.

"Are you all right?" he turned in the seat to face me, his big body sitting partially sideways so he could face me straight on.

"Yeah," I answered automatically, but what I really wanted was to crawl into his lap and cry. The emotional hangover from the adrenaline was already kicking in. "I mean, I am now."

Emmett visibly relaxed. "They didn't get the chance to hurt you, then?"

I shook my head. "Thanks to your timely arrival. How did you find me?"

Instead of answering the question he shifted in his seat until he faced front and kicked the clutch to put the car in gear. "Let's go find Angela and Jessica," he said, ignoring my question. "They'll be worried."

"Shit," I said. "We were supposed to get dinner at La Bella Italia."

Jessica and Angela were leaving the restaurant when we arrived. Emmett swung the hatchback smoothly into a parallel space that would have given me trouble even in my tiny Fiat. He got out and called to my two friends as I popped out of the passenger seat.

They had only managed to get halfway down the block but turned immediately at the sound of their names and rushed back to me, gripping my arms and hugging me.

"We were so worried!" Angela murmured. "What happened?"

"I got lost," I admitted with no small amount of embarrassment. "And then Emmett found me."

They turned to him for the first time, faces draining of color and emotion. They both looked as though their brains had taken a vacation.

"Would it be alright if I joined you?" Emmett flashed his most charming grin at them and I watched as both of their faces went blank.

"Er… sure…" Jessica whispered.

Angela shook herself visibly. "Actually, we already ate. We were sort of hoping you would show up while we ate, and then we were going to check if you were waiting by the car. I thought maybe your phone had died…."

"That's totally fine," I said. "I'm not super hungry." In fact, I felt extremely ill. My encounter with the four men had left me shaken and angry, ugly memories threatening to resurface. I wasn't convinced I could keep anything down.

"You should eat something," Emmett said severely. I gave him my best "excuse _me_" face until he relented and added more softly, "Really, I think you should."

"Do you mind if I drive La home tonight?" he asked Jessica. "That way you won't have to wait while she eats."

"Uhh…." This time Jessica was fully alert and watching me closely. It was a rare bit of insight coming from her, and I genuinely appreciated it. I gave her a small nod, _yes, I feel safe with Emmett, yes, you can leave me with him._

Angela picked up on it, too. "Okay, see you tomorrow, La… Emmett." She coughed out his name before grabbing Jessica and hauling her toward the car. Jessica's car was parked several spaces down so I watched until they were safely inside and the car was started before I turned back to Emmett.

"Honestly, I don't know if I can eat."

"That's why I think you should." He motioned toward the restaurant and held the door open for me. "I'm a little worried you're in shock."

I couldn't argue and I wasn't terribly upset about spending more time with him so I entered the restaurant and walked toward the host stand. It wasn't busy but had enough clientele making bubbling noise that we would be able to speak without being overheard.

"Table for two?" a tall, beautiful blonde was standing just inside the door, ready to receive guests as they entered. Her voice sounded tight and restricted, like her throat had closed on her welcome before she could get the last word out. The hostess coughed into her hand delicately to loosen her throat as she took in the sight before her. I could understand her astonishment. Emmett was looking particularly delicious this evening in biker boots, snugly fitting jeans that showed off his thick thighs, a blue loose-fitting cotton shirt, and a motorcycle jacket. His natural height, somewhere around 6'5", made him look like a sexy tree man.

"Something private," he palmed her a bill in a way that is supposed to only work in movies. She took us to a corner booth along the back wall, a few tables away from anyone else in any direction.

"How is this?" she asked.

"Perfect," he gave her a wide smile. "Thanks."

Her eyes went blank and she stood there for just a second too long before turning away.

I sighed. "You really shouldn't do that, you know."

His brow crinkled. "Do what?"

I motioned toward the poor hostess tottering away as we took our seats. "Dazzle people like that, it's not fair. She's probably hyperventilating in the kitchen right now."

He seemed genuinely confused as he looked after the hostess, and then a slight grin passed over his face as though his suspicions were confirmed.

"Oh, come on." I crossed my arms and gave him a playful glare. "You _have_ to know the effect you have on people."

"Do I dazzle _you?_"

"Yup," I admitted and rolled my eyes. "It's incredibly annoying."

I smiled to take the sting out of my words. When the server arrived, her face was expectant. The hostess had most definitely dished about Emmett in the back.

"Hi, my name is Sam," she said. "And I'll be your server tonight. May I get you anything to drink?"

She was speaking only to Emmett. I stifled a snort that turned into a full giggle as Emmett looked at me, eyes wide and both eyebrows raised in mock disbelief.

"I'll just have water," I finally managed. "Thank you, Sam."

She finally glanced at me and went away.

Emmett's face turned serious when her back turned. It looked like he was studying me.

"What?" I tilted my head at him.

"How are you really feeling?" he asked, somberly.

"Better and better." I rubbed my face roughly. "I'm not going to lie, that was really scary but I don't think I'm in shock."

"I believe you, but I think we'll both feel better once you have some food in your stomach."

Right on cue, Sam arrived with a basket of breadsticks and two waters. We both thanked her and I realized as the smell of garlic filled my nose that I actually was pretty hungry.

"Are you ready to order?" Sam asked Emmett.

"Yes, I'll have the ravioli," I cut in. She forced her eyes away from Emmett's face to give me a brusque nod.

"And for you?" she asked.

"Nothing for me, thanks."

"Let me know if you change your mind," she offered, then went away again, dissatisfied.

I drank down my water at once. Apparently, near-assault can make a person thirsty. Who knew? The cold of the water gave me a chill. I rubbed my arms to rid myself of the goosebumps.

"Are you cold?" Emmett asked as he pushed his water toward me.

"It's just the water," I said.

"Where's your jacket?"

"I left it in Jessica's car. It was so pretty earlier, I didn't need it."

He shrugged off his leather jacket and handed it over to me. The motion made his light cotton shirt cling to his body. I watched his movement appreciatively as I took the jacket, allowing my mind to wander off in meandering fantasies about what was under the shirt.

The jacket swallowed me. I felt like a little girl wearing her daddy's coat, but the smell of it was so amazing it immediately wiped that feeling away. I couldn't identify the smell as it wasn't cologne, and it wasn't musk. I sunk into it, too happy to care that it had the cold feeling of a jacket left in a drafty hallway overnight.

Emmett was watching me closely again. There was a small smile playing at the corners of his lips like he was pleased with what he saw. He pushed the bread basket toward me.

"I really don't think I'm going into shock," I protested.

"Well, you should be," he countered. "Any normal person would be after what you went through."

"I didn't go through anything," I reminded him. "You found me in plenty of time. All I got was a little scare."

His face closed. It was the same look he'd had when I'd gotten into the car with him. I tried to peer into his face, not wanting him to withdraw from me. His eyes were light grey and flecked with green again tonight.

"I feel safe with you," I said, trying to draw him out. The assertion seemed to help. His face lost a little bit of the tight mask he'd been wearing since he scooped me up.

"You shouldn't," he said warily.

I made a face. "You're usually in a better mood when your eyes are this color."

"I'm sorry, what?" he sputtered. The statement seemed to have shaken him out of whatever was making him look so bitter.

"Your eyes," I said nonchalantly. "When they're dark you tend to be grumpy. When they're lighter you laugh more." I let the silence stretch, then added, "I have a theory about that, actually."

His expression opened up the rest of the way. "More theories?"

"Yup," I ate some bread, it felt really good going down. Emmett had been right about my needing to eat. _Damn him_.

"Well, I hope you were more creative this time," he said. "Stealing from more comic books?"

"Nope," I said between munches. "But I didn't come up with it on my own either."

The waitress saved me from the need to continue by appearing right then with my dinner. It smelled delicious.

"Have you changed your mind?" She asked Emmett as she set my plate down. It may have been my imagination, but it didn't sound like she was talking about food.

"No, but we'll take more water." Sam hadn't noticed the empty glasses. She returned a moment later with a water carafe and left it on the table between us.

"You were saying?" Emmett put his elbows on the table and leaned forward over them. He seemed too big to be allowed in this posture, muscles bunching up in the most fascinating ways.

I looked around, not trusting the staff to keep away from this vision of a man long enough to allow conversation. "I'll tell you in the car if…"

"If?" he tilted his head in question.

"Well, I'll have some questions, obviously." I unrolled my silverware, speared a ravioli and stuffed it in my mouth.

"Obviously," he added with solemn humor. "Go ahead."

"Why are you in Port Angeles?" I shot at him.

"Next," he shot back just as quickly.

"Hey!" I complained. "That's the easiest one."

"Next," he dimpled at me.

"Fine," I speared another ravioli and chewed as I thought, taking my time. I sipped more water and opened my mouth to ask, and then snapped it shut several times before settling on which question I would ask next.

There was one theory I had that was almost too wild to put into words. One that I hadn't thought about directly because it seemed too impossible in this world of impossible things, but how else could he possibly have found me? It was a tough question to word correctly. It seemed rude to throw out something like, "Do you read minds, bro?"

"Hypothetically speaking…" I began. He nodded with me. "If someone could hear another person's thoughts, with maybe a few exceptions-"

"No exceptions," he offered. _That's interesting and horrifying._ I thought, happy that he was willing to talk, but embarrassed about what he most certainly would have heard in my head.

"Okay," I agreed, fighting to keep my voice steady. "How does it work? What are the limitations? How would a person use this skill to find another person at exactly the right time?"

"Hypothetically, the mind reader would be paying close enough attention to the other person the timing wouldn't need to be quite so exact." He rolled his eyes. "Honestly, how the hell did you find trouble in this tourist trap?"

"How did you know, Emmett?" I ignored the question to ask him bluntly.

He huffed out a breath, watching my face minutely. It seemed he was straddling a decision, maybe wondering if he should tell me the truth. I sat quietly hoping we could put an end to the guessing game here and now. When he didn't speak for what seemed like an interminable amount of time I got in impatient.

"You can trust me."

"It was never about trusting you," he said. "This whole thing has turned into a sick experiment on my self-control. At this point, it's more about how you'll react. There's just no way to know." He shook his head and glared down at his hands gripping each other on the table.

I reached out to grip his hand but he slid them out of my reach just like he had the other day at lunch.

"I was wrong you know," he continued. "That day I called you 'unobservant,' I didn't give you enough credit. Edward was right."

This seemed like an odd thing to add, but I wasn't about to interrupt if he was finally willing to share.

"I followed you to Port Angeles," he finally admitted, speaking in a rush as though he worried he'd never get it out if he didn't get it out at once_._ "I've never tried to keep any single person alive before, and it has been… _really_ hard. That's probably only because it's you, and you're… you know… a magnet for trouble. Apparently."

I wondered if I should be feeling a certain way about him following me, but mostly I was just gratified he had been here to get me out of what would have been an unquestionable catastrophe.

"Thank you," I told him reaching across the table to touch his hand. He tried to pull away again but I ignored him and slid my fingers over his cool skin. "That's twice now."

Emmett's expression softened as he took in my sincerity, but he removed his hands from beneath mine.

"Did you ever think that maybe my number was up the first time with the van?" I asked. "Maybe you're interfering with the Fates."

An unfamiliar sardonic smile spread across his lips. "That wasn't the first time, La. Your number was up the moment I met you."

Fear rippled down my spine before I could stifle it. I remembered all too clearly the day we'd met. When his black gaze had seemed to bore into my soul. Yet, here he was; sitting before me, with all the beauty of an angel, having just saved my life. Again.

"You remember?"

"Yes," by the time I spoke my voice was calm.

"And yet here you sit," he said, echoing my thoughts.

"Yes," I said again. "Because of you, because you were able to find me somehow?"

"You eat, I'll talk." He pointed at my ravioli, which was growing cold on the plate in front of me.

"I'm not the one with the talent, I can't read minds," he began. I closed my eyes briefly at this affirmation, feeling gratitude in my every cell. "My siblings are much more gifted in this life than I am. I followed you to Port Angeles only because I was aware this was where you were planning to go. I was late, thinking there wasn't any real trouble you could find in this black hole of a town.

"Once I got here it was sort of a crapshoot. I didn't know where to begin. I started driving in circles hoping to come across your trail, or see you, or hear you shopping. By the time I found Angela and Jessica you had already left them. The sun was going down and I was frantic, getting ready to follow you on foot when I was… able to get some information on where you were. It was a cross street I was familiar with and I just knew…."

"Knew what?"

"I knew what would happen if I was too late." His jaw clenched tightly. "But I rounded the corner and there you were…

"It was _very _hard to leave with you. I wanted to… It doesn't matter what I wanted to do. The point is I thought if you left me alone I would go after them, and I'm trying so hard to not be a monster for you."

There was nothing for me to do but sit quietly. I felt frozen. His confession had left my mind reeling. Emmett sat across from me, still as a frozen lake, face full of uncertainty.

"Are you…" he lifted himself from the hunched over position he'd fallen into as he spoke. "Are you ready to go home?"

"I'm ready to leave," I clarified.

With the sixth sense of all servers, Sam appeared and spoke only to Emmett again. "How are we doing?"

"We're ready for the check, thanks." Emmett didn't take his eyes from me as he spoke, even still the waitress looked muddled.

"Here you go," she whispered and handed over a book. Emmett stuck a bill in it and handed it back without looking inside.

As we left he walked close enough to touch but kept his hands chastely in his pockets. I sighed in disappointment, thinking about my earlier instinct of crawling into his lap. It didn't seem as though that was something he was interested in.

Inside the car, Emmett turned the seat warmers all the way up and the heat on full blast until I was no longer cold, then pulled out of his tight parking space and was off, back toward Forks.

Before we entered the highway he turned to me, face full of active curiosity, and said; "Now it's your turn."


	10. Theory

**Music note:** Hard Headed Woman, by Wanda Jackson, and Hallelujah, I love her so, by Eddie Cochran

**10\. THEORY**

"Can I ask one more question?" I asked Emmett as he sped down the road. We were going far too fast for these narrow country roads, making our speed around hairpin turns both terrifying and exhilarating. I caught him looking at me rather than the road, yet I still felt confident he was fully in control of the car.

"I don't see why not," he offered lazily. "There doesn't seem to be any point in keeping you guessing."

"You said you were looking for my 'trail' earlier. What does that mean?" My seatbelt was drawn over my shoulder and clipped, but I pulled the shoulder strap out so I could turn in the seat to face him more directly.

A barking laugh escaped him at my question. "It's weird. Are you sure you want to know?"

"Yes." I answered simply. "I thought we were over the guessing games?"

"I, uhh…" he waved a hand in a way that seemed to indicate the general air in the car. "I followed your scent."

Try as I might to keep my face composed, the answer was too ridiculous. I giggled uncontrollably. There was just a touch of mild hysteria in the sound. Emmett looked at me with consternation until he gave up and joined in my mania.

Once I'd regained control of myself I continued. "You didn't answer my first question, how does the mind reading thing work?"

"I don't actually know," he said. "That's Edward. He sort of explained it like being in crowded room. It all becomes background noise until one thing or other pulls his attention. I don't really get it but there you have it."

"So, then how did you know where to find me? Was Edward here with you?"

"Oh, no," he followed my train of thought. "That's my sister. Alice's talent is even weirder, and honestly, you'll need to ask her for better details. She sees glimpses of possible futures. I can't explain any better than that because I have no idea what that could look like."

"And she saw me?" I asked.

He nodded, eyes trained on the road. "She saw a glimpse of you surrounded by those guys and a street sign above you. She called me as soon as she saw it."

This revelation was too weird. There was no way to think about seeing the future rationally so I skipped over it. "It's called the cocktail effect," I said absently after a moment, referring to Emmett's explanation of Edward's talent. "When one single word, like your name, or an interest, grabs your attention in a room full of noise. I bet that's what it's like for Edward, only all the time." _That would suck._

I thought about that, wondering what the proximity of a mind reader implied about everything that was happening between Emmett and me. Edward had apparently been privy to every thought I'd had about his family, and more specifically about his brother. I cringed.

"Don't worry," Emmett glanced over and caught my wincing expression. "He is every bit the gentleman. I'm only now realizing how much he probably hears and never repeats. Anyway, it's your turn. Theories?"

"I don't know where to start," I admitted and pursed my lips in thought, sorting through everything Jacob had told me that day on the beach as well as all the things I'd mapped out in my journal entry.

"Start at the beginning," he suggested. "You said you didn't come up with this theory on your own? Was it a book? A movie?"

"No, it was Saturday at the beach. Actually, I ran into an old family friend, Jacob Black." I said and gulped.

Emmett shot me a puzzled look, probably at the weird sound that had just come out of my throat.

"He's the son of Billy Black? One of the Quileute tribe elders?" I wasn't sure why I phrased it as a question, but the look on Emmett's face told me everything I needed to know about how he felt about that.

"Shit," he muttered.

"So," I ignored his expletive. "We went for a walk, and he reminded me about some of the old tribe legends… trying to scare me, I think…"

"Go on." He didn't take his eyes from the road now.

"One of them was about…" I got stuck on the last word and it was a moment before I could force it out. I cleared my throat indelicately, compounding the odd noises I was making tonight. "Cold ones, er, rather… Vampires?"

Despite my expectation, Emmett remained remarkably calm. "And you immediately thought of me?"

"Yes and no," I continued, finding it easier now that the big word was out. "I was already after information about you, and he mentioned your family… but he didn't believe any of it. He thought it was all old legends and superstitions."

"How did you even get on the subject of my family in La Push?" he asked.

"Sort of an odd story, actually," I pulled a lock of my hair from behind my ear and twirled it absently as I spoke.

"There's this horrible girl called Lauren that goes to school with us," I told him. "She was there, and trying to bait me into some kind of reaction, I guess. She asked why you weren't there in front some of the guys from the reservation. One of them responded with something about y'all not going to the res, only it sounded like you weren't _allowed_. I got curious, so I took Jacob down the beach and tricked it out of him."

Emmett's face had been darkening into a glower, his teeth locking so tightly I imagined I could hear them grind. However, at the end of my short story his glower cleared into an expression of humor. "How did you trick him?"

"I sort of…" I lifted my hands, palm up. "Flirted? With him? Poor guy. It worked much more easily than I thought it would."

He grinned. "Poor guy, indeed. And that's when you put two and two together?"

"Again, yes and no." I gripped my hands together tightly, nervousness dancing in my belly.

"What brought it together, then?"

"I like to look at things written out, so I wrote it all down and tried to look at it objectively… and then…" I stopped.

"And then what?"

"I decided it didn't matter," I said simply. He pulled the car over abruptly and turned to face me dead on.

"It doesn't matter?" His voice was quiet but incredulous.

"I mean," I started, my voice was a few pitches higher than normal, it sounded like a squeaky door hinge. His reaction made me feel defensive and unsure of myself, but I wasn't going to back down. "No, it doesn't matter to me what you are or aren't."

"You don't care if I'm not human." It wasn't a question.

"Well, you _look_ human."

"You don't care if I'm a monster?" he clarified.

"Monsters don't save lives, Emmett." He was quiet, staring at me with a mixture of bemusement, joy, and alarm.

"So, I'm right?" I asked when he didn't say anything.

"Does it matter?" he shot back.

"Of course not," I crossed my arms and frowned at his obstinance. "But I _am_ curious."

When he let out a breath, I knew I'd won. He turned straight in his seat and returned the gearshift to first to pull back on to the road.

"What are you curious about?" His demeanor had lost all surliness, he seemed lighter and more at ease.

A huge smile spread across my face. "How old are you?"

"Twenty five."

"And how long have you been twenty five?"

He chuckled. "A while."

"Can we talk mythology?" I asked.

"Sure, why not?" his smile was deepening, he almost looked as excited as I was.

"How do you come out during the day?"

"Myth," he snickered.

"So, you're not burned by the sun?"

"Nope, myth."

"Sleeping in coffins?"

"Myth," he hesitated. "Actually, we don't sleep."

"What, at all?"

"This is the part that disturbs you?" he looked down on me again, eyes crinkled with amusement. "No, we never sleep."

"Wow," I said. "That's a _lot_ of time."

"I know," he whispered. "But you haven't asked me the most important question yet."

"What's that?" I thought through all the notes I'd taken, the questions I'd had, and while I could think of several things worth asking, I couldn't fathom what the most _important_ one would be.

"Our diet?" he continued. "You haven't asked me what we eat, yet."

"Oh, that…" I murmured. "Jacob said that in the legends your family wasn't supposed to be dangerous because you don't hunt humans. Only animals."

"He said we aren't dangerous?"

"Well, no, not exactly," I corrected. "He said you weren't _supposed_ to be dangerous, but the elders still didn't want you on their land… just in case."

He didn't answer. "He was right?"

"The Quileutes have a long memory."

I took this as confirmation.

"Don't let that make you complacent, though!" He warned. "We are still very dangerous."

"Even when you don't hunt humans?"

"You say that so easily." He said, bewildered. "You should be much more freaked out than you are right now."

"I feel safe with you," I offered by way of explanation. He shook his head.

"We try," he explained. "And most of us are very good at what we do, but sometimes we make mistakes."

I shuddered. By mistakes he meant sometimes he ate people. Even as I did it, I knew the shudder came only as an expected response. I didn't feel any fear. The reaction was not lost on him.

"Are you freaked out yet?" he asked.

"Not really," I settled back into my seat. "Why do you hunt animals instead of people?"

"I already told you," he was watching me for a reaction again. "It's easier to believe I'm not a monster when I don't act like one."

"You're not a monster," I said easily. "Are animals not enough?"

"They're enough…" he searched for a word. "Nutritionally? But sometimes they don't taste very good. It's like discovering you can survive off pizza and then only being offered salad."

"Mmm," I said. "That is a very real life problem."

He laughed again. "I can't tell if you're amazing or insane."

I let that pass. "Is it difficult to be around humans?"

"It can be," he allowed. "If we haven't hunted in a while, or if someone is particularly…"

"Fragrant?" I offered.

"Fuck's sake, La!" He shook his head at me again, but I could tell he was just shaking his head at my word choice. "You should not be so flippant about being the main food source of your local vampire clan."

"But I'm not the main food source," I said. "Anyway, is it very difficult for you now?"

"Extremely."

"But you're not hungry or, rather, thirsty right now," I said with full confidence.

"Why do you say that?" he asked.

"Your eyes," I said. "They're lighter when you've 'hunted'- that's when you're in a better mood."

He stared at me blank faced for long enough I was worried we would drive off the road.

"Once again, La," he said. "I did not give you enough credit when I called you unobservant."

I left the conversation there for the moment and chewed on everything he'd told me. After a few minutes of companionable silence I picked up the questioning from a different angle.

"So this weekend you went hunting with Edward?"

"Yes," he said. "I didn't love being away from you for three days, but it's a lot easier to be near you when I'm not thirsty."

"Three days?" I asked with frustration. "You didn't just get back today?"

"No," he said slowly. "We got back Sunday."

"Why weren't any of you in class?"

"Oh!" realization cleared out his confusion. "The sun doesn't hurt us, but we can't be seen in public when it's sunny."

"Why?"

"I'll show you some time." It sounded like a promise I could look forward to.

"You could have called," I said. "…or texted."

"What do you mean?"

"I didn't love you being away from me, either. I was sort of worried."

"Oh," Emmett was quiet. "Really?"

"Yes," I said. "I meant it when I said it doesn't matter to me what you are or aren't. It's too late. Now that I've met you, I can't un-meet you, and I don't want to."

"Ugh," he muttered. "This is could be problematic…. I shouldn't be so happy you said that."

"Why is that problematic?"

"I'm dangerous," he said harshly. "This is so dangerous, La! I could kill you."

"You won't." I shifted in my seat folding my legs so my knees were under my chin.

"I want to believe that, but I don't know. I can't be sure. I'm sorry."

It wasn't clear what the apology was referring to and I didn't know how to respond so I remained quiet until he spoke again. The trees continued to slip by in darkness until we pulled off the 101 into Forks.

"Tell me something," he said. "What were you thinking before I came around the corner tonight? It looked like you were _hissing_ at those guys."

"I think I did," I tittered uncomfortably. "I don't really know what I was doing."

"Were you going to fight them?" he asked in stupefaction.

"It probably wouldn't have done any good, but neither would have running, not with four guys behind me. And I was just _so mad._ I don't think I've ever been that angry in my life. I just wanted to hurt them, to punish them for being the reason women fear walking alone at night. I wanted to see them suffer for every woman that's ever been traumatized by a man." I could feel the rage building up inside of me as I spoke about it, but I stopped when I realized the car was no longer moving, and that Emmett was staring at me in astonishment again.

"You're _both_, you know," he said in wonder.

"Both what?"

"Amazing and insane."

I hooted a laugh and shook my head, then took off his jacket, leaving it on the seat as I pulled myself out of the car. His answering smile was the one I loved the most with one dimple on the left side. Straight, even teeth flashing white in the darkness.

"See you tomorrow?" I asked.

"Promise." He gave a scouts honor salute. I flipped him off for his sarcasm, ducked under the awning over my door, and went inside.

Once the door was shut behind me, I started shaking. Vibrating. I could barely get up the stairs to my room and into the bathroom the shaking was so violent. I turned the water in the shower all the way to hot and plugged the tub so it would retain all the steaming warmth.

The water burned my skin, but I sat under it anyway until the shaking had subsided and I could relax my rigid muscles. I quickly covered up in all of my warmest sleeping clothes and curled up into the tightest ball I could manage under the comforter.

My mind wandered this way and that, entirely without direction. Eventually it dredged up three important facts that I could not ignore. First, and foremost, Emmett was unquestionably a vampire. Second, there was a very large chance my association with him would get me killed. This would be the second time in my life I'd fallen under the spell of someone that put me in immediate peril. This situation didn't feel the same, though, which brought me to my third fact: I was intensely, and undoubtedly in love with him.


	11. Interrogation

**Music note:** The Way You Love Me, by The Delta Bombers and Desperate Love, by JD McPherson, and bonus! Katie's Ghost by Mad Marge & the Stonecutters

**11\. INTERROGATION**

The morning was overcast, dark, dismal, and absolutely perfect. Emmett would definitely be in school. I needed him to be in school. I still didn't have his number, and the light of day made it very hard for my rational mind to accept what had happened last night.

Despite my difficulty accepting the events of my trip to Port Angeles, there were things I knew I couldn't have made up. The most pressing example being my lack of a jacket. I shot Jessica a quick message to remind her to bring it with her then layered on sweaters and wrapped a scarf around my neck and over my head. This was an abysmal effort to dispel the cold that I was fairly certain wouldn't work. Upon seeing my ridiculous visage in the mirror, I immediately scrabbled the scarf off my head. I looked like a character from Dune; not worth it. I ended up in a heavy black sweater over a long sleeved blouse, hoping it would be enough to get me through the morning.

The extra time it had taken for me to get dressed put me behind schedule. I flew out the door in a rush to get to class, banging the front door shut behind me. My bag was tossed into the trunk before I noticed the Volkswagen at the bottom of the drive. Emmett was leaned against the driver's door, watching me patiently.

"Care for a ride?" he asked once I stopped bustling around.

"Yes, please." I grabbed my bag, slammed my trunk closed, and handed it to him. He took it, placing it next to his before joining me in the warm car. The same leather jacket from the night before was hanging on the back of the seat where I'd left it. I eyed it, wondering if it would be weird for me to put it on again.

"I brought my jacket for you since Jessica still has yours," he said. "I didn't want you to get sick or something."

"I'm not quite that delicate," I answered but pulled the jacket on gratefully. His scent, whatever it was, enveloped me like a cool blanket. It was even better today than it had been last night.

"I beg to differ," he said pointedly. I wondered if that meant we were still being candid, or if he was referring to something else. Not knowing where we stood left me feeling tongue-tied so I sat quietly and waited for his lead.

Eventually he turned his goofy smile on to me.

"What happened to your hair?"

"Uhm," I muttered, and flipped down the sun visor to look in the mirror. Strands of my black curls were piled on top of my head in complete disarray. It looked like I'd gotten in a fight with… with a scarf wrapped around my head. I shook my hair out sheepishly, and tried to smooth the worst of the tangles with my fingers. _Whoops._

"So!" he said once I snapped the visor shut. "No twenty questions today?"

"Do my questions bother you?" I asked, still rubbing my fingers through my hair. After checking the mirror again and deciding it was hopeless, I tied the whole mass into a knot on the top of my head.

"Not as much as your reactions do." He was watching my movements from the corner of his eye. I could tell he wasn't joking, but he said it with humor anyway.

"What do you mean?"

"You take everything with such a sense of rationality… it's unnatural. I just feel like something I told you last night should have freaked you out at least a little bit."

"Meh," I said. "Maybe I'm just really good at weird."

"I would definitely say that's true."

"Where's your family?" I asked having just realized that the car we were currently speeding along in was usually full.

"They took Alice's car. Edward has very kindly loaned me his so I could pick you up."

"This isn't yours?" This whole time I'd been associating the black GTI with Emmett.

"Nope," he said as we pulled into the lot. There was a canary yellow Porsche 911 parked in the space that was usually reserved for the Volkswagen.

"Is that a…" I didn't finish the question because I didn't really need to ask.

"Yep," he answered and snorted.

"I didn't even know they made 911s in that color yellow," I continued, still staring at it. "I'd say it's beautiful, but that color is…."

"Ostentatious?"

"If I were being polite."

"Obnoxious?" he guessed again.

"Closer."

"You like cars?" he asked as he swung into my usual spot.

I scoffed at him. "I didn't buy an Abarth on accident."

He barked out a sound that could have been a laugh or a cough and pulled his big frame out of the car.

"With that tiny engine? I figured people _only_ ever bought those on accident."

"Hey!" I snatched my bag from him. "1.4 liters is plenty for a car that weighs less than you do, Emmett. Especially when you stick a turbo on it."

Another booming laugh echoed through the lot as we walked to campus together. He stuck as close to my side as was possible without actually touching me. I wanted to close the distance, but wasn't sure he would want me to. He'd already said it was difficult to be around me, and I wasn't super interested in adding "eaten by vampire" to my list of things to worry about.

"You're just mad because you can't fit in it," I told him as he continued to chortle. "Do all of you drive fast cars?"

"I don't," he said. "I wouldn't call my truck fast, but it's not a great daily driver, either."

"And the Porsche is?"

"Fair," he allowed. "But it's better than mine."

Whatever on earth had the ability to make a violently colored sports car look tame, I couldn't guess. As we approached the pavilion we found Jessica waiting with my jacket folded over her arm, bless her heart. She watched us intrusively as we walked toward her. Her eyes bugged rudely.

"Hey!" I called enthusiastically. "Thank you so much for remembering."

She handed me the jacket mutely, and continued to stare at Emmett.

"Morning, Jessica," Emmett said pointedly.

"Uhm… Hi." She managed before shifting her eyes to mine, giving me a meaningful look. "I guess I'll see you later?"

"Yep," I gave her a small wave and frowned once her back was turned. I wasn't interested in sharing anything with her, but didn't want to be rude to one of the few people I'd befriended in Forks, even if she was a hyena.

"What are you going to tell her?" Emmett asked.

"I thought you weren't the mind reader," I said grumpily and removed his jacket in favor of mine.

"I'm not," he chuckled. "But I don't need to be to see what she's expecting."

"Any ideas on what I should tell her?"

He watched my face quietly for a moment as though he were considering what to say next. A tendril fell out of the hasty knot I'd tied in my hair and fell over my face. He caught the long black strand between his fingers, pulling it straight. He seemed to enjoy the texture of it on his skin, because his face softened as he looked at it. With a careful twirl he twisted it back into place and dropped his hand.

"Well," he hesitated like he wasn't sure how I would react to what he said next. "If you want, you could tell her we're dating and let her make her own assumptions from there?"

"Are we, though?" I asked. "Dating, I mean."

"I think it's easier than any other explanation," he said. His softening expression changed then, opening like a book and telling me more than any words could convey. It took my breath away that someone could see me the way he was looking at me. I felt like the brightest light in the world, like my presence made everything else make sense. Tears pricked my eyes, and my breath caught in my throat.

"See you in class?" he walked away toward building 2, leaving me standing by the pavilion, watching him walk away.

Mike was already seated in the desk next to mine when I arrived to class.

"Morning, La," he said with an odd, resigned look on his face. He must have finally given up on me. I would have cheered if it wasn't so rude to do so. "How was Port Angeles?"

"It was great," I evaded. He didn't need to know the real reason why. "Jessica got a really cute dress."

He looked happier at the thought of his date in a cute dress.

"Did she mention Monday night?"

"She did," I replied with a smile. "She said she had a great time."

"Really?" he asked, eagerly.

"Definitely."

My first class passed slowly. All I could think of was seeing Emmett again. After a halfhearted initial effort at paying attention, I gave up and let my mind go where it wanted. As the clock ticked nearer to the hour, the more excited I got. Emmett would be waiting on the other side of that doorway as soon as this class let out. I could avoid the conversation with Jessica if I was able to grab him and run to lecture before she could catch up with us. Then we could sneak over to the smoking section for lunch and I would have avoided it altogether… for today.

"Hi, Mike!" a breathless voice called as we exited the room. Jessica was waiting for us where Emmett should have been, positively dancing with anticipation. Emmett stood several meters down the hall with Edward waiting, and watching with equal anticipation. _He's giving her opportunity!_ I frowned severely at them.

"Hey, Jess." Mike's smile was warm and a little self conscious.

"Do you mind if I borrow Delilah for a moment?" She grabbed me by the arm and towed me down the hall before he could answer. I looked back to glare at Emmett in time to see him laugh maniacally before she shoved me out the door into the misting rain.

"What happened last night?" she nearly squealed.

"He bought me dinner, then drove me home," I said shortly.

"Stoooop," she elongated the word in frustration. "How did you get home so fast?"

"He drives like a lunatic," I told her, relieved that I hadn't had to lie just yet.

"Was it like a date?" she asked. "Did you make plans to meet there?"

"God no," I said. "In fact, I still don't even have his number. It was a complete surprise to see him."

She frowned at the transparent sincerity in my voice. I guessed she wanted more juicy bits, but unfortunately for her there weren't any I could give.

"But he picked you up for school today, right?" She was relentless.

"Also a surprise," I said. "He noticed I didn't have a jacket last night."

"That's really sweet," she said, strangely disappointed. "So are you going out again?"

I nodded. "He's taking me to Seattle on Saturday."

"Wow," she whispered. "Have you kissed yet?"

"No," I responded, noticing it was suddenly my turn to be disappointed. "I don't think it's like that with us."

"Not even Saturday?"

I shook my head.

"But you _are_ dating, right?"

"I think so," I sighed.

"I don't know how you're brave enough to be alone with him," she muttered in awe. "He's so intimidating… and beautiful. I don't think I could say a word to him."

"He does tend to be distracting," I admitted, feeling irked. Something about her tone made me feel the need to defend him. "But there's a lot more to him than that."

"Like what?" she snorted.

"I can't explain it," I shook my head, wishing I hadn't said anything. How did she always trick me into saying more than I meant to? Even if any of this were her business, how do you describe a person's quick wit, gallantry, and passion in one sentence without sounded like a hallmark card?

"He's just unbelievable." I finally finished, lamely.

"You like him," she noted.

"A lot."

"And he likes you?" she asked.

I thought about the way he'd looked at me before my first class this morning.

"Yes."

"But no kissing?" she clarified.

"Maybe he's Mormon," I offered.

Jessica's mouth turned down into a petulant pout of disappointment, but we'd reached the entrance to my building and I was able to skip away avoiding further conversation.

Inside, Emmett was sitting in his usual spot at the back of the room. I passed the seat I'd previously been taking near the outer circle of his ring of exile and sat directly on his left. He wore a mildly sheepish expression on his face, but was beaming nonetheless.

"You did that on purpose." I turned on him with severity. He nodded, growing more sheepish.

"You had Edward listen, didn't you." It was more of an accusation than a question.

"Sorry," he mumbled in confirmation, but he didn't look very apologetic.

We were quiet as class began, the professor absorbing too much of my concentration for speech. I wanted to scrawl angry notes at him to demand answers, but realized that was almost exactly what he had wanted by listening in on Jessica's interrogation. He'd gone about it all wrong, of course, but I could empathize with the desire.

When we left class the mist had turned to large, fat droplets of water and I wasn't interested in the possibility of getting even more wet on the walk over to what I was starting to consider "our" spot in the smoking section. Now that Jessica had gotten her answers, there was no need to avoid the pavilion. We entered to a host of long looks and tiny susurrus whispers. The Cullen family was seated at a round table with enough seats for the two of us to join them, but Emmett led me to a smaller table in a corner where we could talk without being overheard by any humans. Once we were seated and I was comfortably snacking on crackers I gave him another serious look.

"So you were vicariously listening?" I asked.

"Thank you for calling me unbelievable," he said and cocked his head, grinning. "Give me your phone."

I rolled my eyes. "You're welcome." My response was full of snark, but I unlocked my phone and handed it over anyway.

He typed something in, then handed it back as his own phone dinged. When I looked at his entry I saw that he'd input his number with a load of emojis in place of a last name. I snorted at the line of unicorns and guitars.

"Did you mean it?" he asked. "What you said about the way you feel about me?"

"Of course I did."

He gave me the same look he had this morning - like the sun was rising for the first time in his life. I reached out to touch him without thinking, and then caught myself and dropped my hand.

"What did you mean about me being Mormon?" He watched my hand drop.

"That," I motioned to the hand left between us in some kind of no man's land. "You don't like it when I touch you."

His brow drew down over his eyes. "That's not safe…."

"I know," I pulled my hands into my lap and hunched over the table. "It doesn't mean I don't want to."

As he thought about everything that statement implied his expression grew blank. I cowardly changed the subject instead of asking what the change meant.

"Seattle will be fun," I hedged.

"Saturday is supposed to be beautiful, actually…." he said, grabbing at the conversation switch. "Do you absolutely _have_ to go to Seattle, or was that an excuse?"

"Definitely an excuse," and I felt no shame about it. "What did you have in mind?"

"Well, the sun will be shining…" he let the sentence hang. "So, I'll need to stay out of the public eye."

"And you want to show me why that is?"

"If you'd like," he offered.

"Yes!" I cheered. "Let's do it!"

"Unless you'd rather not be alone with me," he cautioned. "You could go to Seattle, anyway…."

"Nope," I said. "I have no qualms about being alone with you."

"As much as I love hearing that, you should at least tell Kevin about your plan changes." He looked earnest, even worried.

"Why on earth would I want to do that?" As much as I loved my uncle, we weren't close in that sort of way. There was no reason I could see that I would inform him of _any_ date, let alone one with a vampire.

When Emmett responded his eyes were fierce but his voice was light, this more than anything, made me realize how serious he was taking the possibility of my death.

"To give me some incentive to bring you back."

I ate another cracker noisily. "I'll take my chances."

Emmett actually looked angry for a moment before his face cleared.

"Hey," I cautioned. "This was your idea. All I'm saying is I trust you."

He exhaled slowly and looked away. I took the chance to peer around the pavilion and saw my usual lunch crew staring at us from one side, and Emmett's siblings watching us from the other. Edward and Jasper were watching Emmett with brows drawn while Alice stared directly at me.

Her face was so tiny and lovely, even in the solemnity she now exhibited. Her gaze danced over my features minutely, taking in every detail. I shifted the heavy curtain of my hair over my shoulder torn between discomfort and curiosity. I wanted to go to her; I wanted to ask what she was so worried about, and comfort her if she needed it.

Emmett cut in before I could decide what to do. "Let's talk about something else," he suggested.

"Sure," I made flap with my hand as if I could physically brush the previous subject off. "So camping this past weekend? You and Edward went to Goat Rocks to hunt, didn't you?"

"Yeah," he leaned back like he was stretching, but the motion looked practiced. I had a hunch he didn't need to. "Lions are Edward's favorite, and there's a bit of a mountain lion problem up there."

"Edward's favor- Ohh," I started to ask before realization struck me. Of _course_ they would have favorites. Just like I preferred olives on my pizza. The morbidity of the thought made me grin. "What's your favorite?"

"Grizzly." His voice was off hand but he was scrutinizing my face as he spoke. "The angrier the better."

"What, do you fight them or something?"

"Not on purpose," he said. I took that as a yes. "But what's the point of hunting grizzly if you don't get to have some fun, too? That's why early spring is the best, they're more irritable."

I had the feeling he was trying to scare me, again.

"Hasn't anyone ever told you not to play with your food?"

A small movement made me turn to briefly catch Edward's eye. He was smirking as if I'd just said something inherently funny.

"Yes, I _have_ heard that." Emmett turned to look at Edward and caught him smiling. Emmett flipped him off, then turned back to me. "What are you thinking?"

"Honestly, I'm trying to picture it but I can't."

"Scared yet?" he asked.

"Nope," I forced a yawn to prove it. In fact, the idea of seeing him hunt was more intriguing than it was scary. I wondered how it worked, as he didn't have the mythic vampire canines for sucking blood. It seemed like hunting would be weirdly personal as well as a ridiculously dangerous thing to see. Like being locked in a cage with a starving, pissed off, human eating tiger.

I searched for a new subject, and landed on something entirely innocuous. I was elated to find that we could talk about nearly anything. We bantered and laughed and giggled our way through the rest of break. We continued through my warning alarm until we were in lab together.

Lab was a breeze with Emmett's help. Even my troublesome buret seemed to function properly. I had a large suspicion that he'd done all of this before, and very likely more than once. He likely had six or seven advanced degrees already.

We split for our last classes then met up to walk to the parking lot together, falling back into conversation as though no time had passed. Upon our arrival we discovered a crowd surrounding Alice's yellow Porsche. Emmett made a small sound in the back of his throat that sounded a whole lot like a scoff.

"Fucking ostentatious," he mumbled, but I imagined it was jealousy, as he probably couldn't fit in that car either.

He got me home in record time. As I got out of the car he stopped me with a very cryptic remark.

"La?" it started innocently enough. "Tomorrow it's my turn."

"For what?" I asked, blankly.

"To ask all the questions." His smile was playfully sinister as he backed out of my driveway. I watched his car for as long as I could see it, collecting my thoughts before I went inside.

Thursday was another perfectly, wonderfully grey day. Emmett was leaning against the Volkswagen, arms crossed over his chest when I exited my house.

"So has Edward officially given you his car, or what?" I asked. He ignored me.

"No questions! I already told you today is my turn!"

The questions started as soon as my seatbelt was latched and lasted through the entire car ride. They continued through break, and then again in the car ride home. His curiosity seemed insatiable, as the questions ranged between my favorite color to my first memory. By the time we were parked in my driveway at the end of the day I thought it had to be over, but he had one last one for me.

"What are your plans for tomorrow?"

"I've got to finish up some chores around the house, and then my uncle is joining me for dinner."

"Kevin," he said. It wasn't exactly a question, but I nodded in confirmation anyway.

Emmett walked me all the way to my door where he peered down at me resolutely. I stood very still, unsure what he was planning, but not wanting to break his concentration. With a swift movement, he cupped my face in his hand and dragged his thumb across my cheekbone.

It was like ice and fire that burned long after he had removed his hand.

"I'll see you tomorrow," he said.

"You will?" I asked empty air. He was already speeding away.

In the morning I woke up to a text message from the ridiculous emoji name Emmett had entered into my phone. The line of unicorns gave me an abrupt giggle that I had to contain before I opened the message. It read:

~What are you doing?~

Butterflies flitted around in my stomach like a schoolgirl's.

~Nothing interesting.~

I watched as the little response bubble popped up to show he was typing.

~Wanna make it interesting?~

My response to that was sent before I thought about it:

~Always.~

Knowing he would arrive faster than I could blink, I flew through a shower and got dressed. In true Emmett fashion there was a knock on my door barely 15 minutes later. I peered out my window and grinned at the VW parked outside. When I opened the door Emmett exceeded even my most recent memories of him, looking like a male model in his usual uniform of cotton t-shirt and casual jeans. For a moment I visualized throwing myself at him, and then decided that was probably not the best idea. Instead I grinned up at him and stepped aside so he could come in.

"Welcome," I said.

That was all I got out. It was rapid-fire questions after that, one after another with barely a chance to think in between. I went around the house finishing up chores as he followed me, listening intently to my answers, asking for clarification when needed, and then moving on to the next one.

"Why isn't there any music on?" he asked suddenly as though he'd just noticed.

"I never got the chance to put it on, I guess." I said and pulled my phone out of my pocket. The Bluetooth was already connected so I pressed play on whatever was already queued. It was the album Roger had given me.

"Mad Marge?" He stopped and looked toward the closest speaker.

"Yeah," They'd produced two albums more than five years previously, and had never been an overtly popular band. "You know them?"

"I know Marge," he said. _Well fuck,_ I thought to myself sarcastically, _of course he does. Why wouldn't he?_

I described Atlanta and my travels abroad. I went into minute detail about my last apartment, and all the things I missed about it- as well as several things I didn't miss. I spoke more about my mother, and my sisters, and positively glowed about my niece and nephew. I spoke about my childhood moving around California, and tried to explain impossible things, like the terror of a haboob or wildfires, and amazing things like the smell of ozone before a storm, or the barren beauty of the desert.

Emmett stayed with me while I put together a veritable feast for my uncle. He watched as I systematically made a curry. First I chopped chicken thighs into small chunks and left it to marinate, then cooked down onions and ginger into a combination of spices that left my kitchen deliciously aromatic. Once the ingredients were combined into a large pot gently simmering on the stove, I pulled some pie dough out of the freezer and rolled it out for a chocolate chess pie. He sat on my kitchen counter as I worked, tossing flour onto the dough whenever it got sticky. When the pie was in the oven he popped off the counter.

"That's my cue," he said. "I think I hear his car coming."

At the front door he paused and clenched his jaw. "Shit," he mumbled.

"What?" I asked, trying to see past him out the door.

"Just a complication," he said. "I'll see you in the morning. Be ready for a hike!"

He opened the door and walked quickly to his car as a set of headlights pulled to a stop in front of my house. Emmett froze by the car, expression stiff. His eyes seemed to be locked with whoever was in the passenger seat. A tall gangly male pulled himself out of the driver's seat, and Emmett swung into the Volkswagen and sped away.


	12. Complications

**Music Notes:** Somethin' Else, by Eddie Cochran, and Bang Bang, by Janis Martin. La's driving song is Face Down by White Lung

**12\. COMPLICATIONS**

The rain made it difficult to see who was climbing out of the truck, but it didn't matter, I would recognize that husky voice anywhere.

"Hey, La!" Jacob called up to the house as he helped his dad into a wheelchair, and pushed him up the drive. Another set of headlights came around the corner then, and I recognized the rumble of my uncle's truck.

Billy Black was much older than I expected, face broad and lined like an old leather coat. He was heavy set, but not exactly fat, with broad shoulders, and black eyes that were simultaneously too young and too old for his years. His hair had clearly been the same sheen of black silk in his younger years that Jacob's was now. The years had given it streaks of glossy silver that made intricate designs where it was piled on the back of his head in a messy ponytail.

I looked him over thoughtfully, as my uncle's headlights swept over us, picking out the similarities between him and his son. They seemed to have the same easy nature, and willingness to smile. Billy scrutinized me back. He looked sort of worried, I thought, and wondered why he had triggered such a reaction from Emmett.

_Shit,_ I finally agreed as realization struck me. "_Another complication."_ Billy Black had recognized Emmett, and by the look on his face, he believed the impossible legends his son had assured me were just stories.

"Billy, you made it!" Kevin called as he climbed out of his truck. I finally thought to check my phone for messages. As far as I knew, I was only expecting one guest tonight. But no, Kevin had texted several hours earlier to say Billy would be joining us. I'd been so caught up with Emmett that I never saw the messages.

Thankfully I'd spent more than ten years entrenched in southern culture. Hospitality was my forte. There was plenty of food for everyone. I ushered the men into the house and set about making sure everyone had a drink in their hand before I put plates on the table.

"Anyone hungry?" I called into the living room, as I dumped a can of coconut milk into the curry I'd made, and tossed fresh cilantro on top. Everyone gathered around the table and gleefully dug in as soon as the serving spoons were set out. While Billy and Kevin were catching up on some sports game or other, Jacob turned to me with one of his easy smiles.

"So, how are things?" He asked.

"Pretty good," I smiled back at him. The warmth of his presence was very hard to resist. "How about you?"

"Great," he answered. "I found an old VW Rabbit really cheap. I started rebuilding it in January. Similar model as your friend's car, just much, much older. It came out before the GTI was even a thing."

"That is very cool, Jake." I said. "I didn't know you were an able mechanic."

"I dabble. So, who was your friend? My dad seemed to know him from somewhere." He flashed another irresistible smile at me. The question came with such sincere curiosity I couldn't refuse.

"It was Emmett Cullen," I told him and, to my immense relief, he laughed. I glanced over at the older men, but they were still too involved in their game rehash to notice us.

"I guess that explains why my dad was acting like an asshole. Anyway, he's got a nice ride. I love Volkswagens."

"I'll be sure to tell him," I promised. The rest of the dinner was spent amiably. We ate every stitch of food, mostly because of Jacob's voracious appetite, and moved to the living room for dessert. Incredibly, even after the three bowls of curry he'd eaten, Jacob had room for two servings of pie with ice cream. I watched him tear through the pie with incredulity. Did he have a tapeworm or something?

Kevin and Billy turned on a soccer game and immediately became absorbed in the details, yelling advice at players, shaking fists when things went wrong, and high fiving exuberantly when something went right. I sat with them for a moment, but quickly grew bored and ventured into the kitchen to begin the cleanup process. Jacob joined a few short minutes later, shaking his head at the two men he'd left behind.

"You'd think they would know by now it doesn't matter how loud they shout at the TV, no one can hear them." He took a plate I'd finished rinsing from my hands to place in the dishwasher.

"Since the dawn of time, there has been no greater joy than shouting uselessly at sports," I winked at him and handed him another plate. "Why aren't you in there shouting with them?"

A loud "No!" was heard from the living room, pressing my point.

"Hanging with you is way more interesting," he elbowed me lightly in the arm and put the plate in the rack.

"More interesting than soccer?" I exclaimed and handed him a fistful of silverware before turning to a pot filled with soapy water. "Well, I never."

"Hey, don't doubt yourself," he chuckled. "Here, you wash, I'll rinse and dry."

We scrubbed at the last of the dishes, chatting amiably. Jake was extremely easy to be around. It was uncomplicated, and lacking any of the exotic leaps of emotion that accompanied my time with Emmett. He watched my movements closely and responded with his own affirming body language, and he never made me feel pressured to keep talking.

As the game ended, Billy called through to the kitchen that he was ready to leave. Jake and I were now sitting at the table gaily arguing about the best way to cure a hangover. I was certain half a container of Pedialyte and greasy Thai food was the only option, while Jake maintained the good old fashioned pizza and a beer combo was the best way, though he rarely got hangovers.

"Sure, sure!" Jake called back towards his dad. To me, he added, "are you and your friends going to come back down to the beach soon?"

"I don't know," I said, honestly. "But I'll let you know if we do."

"Well, we could go somewhere else if you wanted…."

I froze. "What do you mean?"

He leaned back in his chair, the picture of confidence. "I mean, we could go get dinner or some drinks?"

"I don't know, Jake." I stood up so quickly I nearly knocked my chair over.

"Whoa, whoa!" He held his hands up. "That's okay, it doesn't have to be a date."

"I'm not really…" I almost said "interested in dating," but that certainly wouldn't be true after everything that had gone on with Emmett. If I was being honest, I didn't know what to tell him. Liking him was not the issue here, the attraction was a foregone conclusion, but I'd already chosen Emmett.

"No worries," he murmured and stood to wrap me in a tight hug. Without thinking I reciprocated, squeezing him tightly around the waist, pressing my cheek into his chest. He smelled of the woods; pine needles, fir trees, and moss. I let his scent envelop me, feeling warm and loved. It must be a magical power he had because no one in my life had ever made me feel so immediately at ease.

A throat cleared forcefully behind us. We turned as one to find Kevin standing in the doorway, hands awkwardly stuck into his pockets. He rocked up on to his toes, then back onto his heels, looking anywhere but directly at us.

"So, uh… you should come out to the res next time the Sounders play, La," Kevin suggested. "It could be fun. We usually make a party of it."

"Yeah, for sure." I agreed, disentangling myself from Jake's long arms. "Sounds good."

When we reached the foyer Billy already had his coat on and was waiting by the door. "Jake, why don't you get the car started?" Billy suggested before turning to say farewell to Kevin. Jake gave my arm a squeeze then sprinted out the door. When Billy turned to me his eyes were somber. "Take care of yourself, Delilah."

"I will," I assured him with a small wave. Jake ran back up and rolled his father down the driveway with one last wave in my direction.

"Sorry about the extra guests, La. When you never texted me back I wasn't sure what to do," Kevin said, as I shut the door and turned toward my uncle. "But I didn't want to uninvite him once I'd already said he could come."

"No, not at all!" I flapped my hands to impress my point. "Those two are always welcome here. I usually make too much food, so this was really perfect. Besides, it's always nice to see Jake."

"Yeah, he's grown quite a bit since the last time you saw him." Kevin feigned innocence by turning his face away and nonchalantly pulling on his coat "Thinking about taking him out?"

"Ha!" I coughed, thinking about the conversation I'd just extricated myself from and flopped onto the couch. "No."

Kevin shrugged noncommittally. "Alright, if you say so. You two looked real cozy in there if you ask me."

I rolled my eyes and concentrated on digging the remote out from between the cushions. Once found, I used it to switch the television away from the recap that had come on after the game.

"Really though," he continued in an unusually inquisitive manner. "You've been here a couple of months now. Have you met anyone… I don't know… interesting?"

The way he worded the question set bells ringing in my head. I sat straight up and narrowed my eyes at him suspiciously. "Mom put you up to this, didn't she?"

"Yep!" He chirped without apology. "She's worried about you. Said something about you being cagey, or something." He paused for a very pregnant moment before continuing. "And I think she's especially worried about you coming around from… you know…"

"Yes," I shot up from the couch. "I do know, and we don't need to talk about it."

"That's okay. We don't ever need to," he said quickly. "But you can understand why she's asking."

"Mom can mind her own damn business," I managed without heat. She was just being a good mom, I couldn't blame her for that. "I'll tell y'all something when there's something to tell. …and I'm fine, Kevin. You don't need to worry. The distance has been good for me," I promised.

"Good to know," he watched me as I sat back down and fidgeted on the couch, picking at my fingers, and fussed with a strand of my hair. "Still going to Seattle tomorrow?"

"No," I mused, and stood up again to finish the bits of the kitchen Jake and I had been too distracted to clean. "I've got too much work to do here, so I'm staying in."

"Oh okay," Kevin replied looking around critically, probably wondering what else I could possibly change about the house. "I'd rather you had someone go with you, anyway. Maybe we can go together next weekend."

I nodded vaguely and headed out of the room.

"Need help?" he called after me. I poked my head back around the corner to see him standing uncomfortably by the front door.

"No, it's just about finished, anyway," I said, finally taking pity on him. He left after a quick hug goodbye, and I found my thoughts absorbed with what the next day would bring. Informing Kevin I had changed my plans had been a snap decision, but it had been a good one.

If Emmett's apprehension about my survival tomorrow was valid, there was no way I'd put him or his family in more danger by alerting people to my presence with him. If people knew, and I ended up going missing it would lead to an unbelievably invasive line of inquiry into his whole family. If he _did_ make a "mistake" as he called it, I will have walked into it with full knowledge of the risk. He shouldn't have to pay the price twice for the same mistake; first with guilt over my death, second with the necessity of uprooting his whole family.

No, I was decided. Not a soul would know I was with Emmett for the day. In keeping with this plan, I called Jessica under the ruse of chatting about Mike. Somewhere in the conversation, I happened to mention my Seattle plans were canceled… everyone knew the Cullens went on camping trips together when it was sunny, right?

Jessica expressed her disappointment for me and halfheartedly offered to share her date. I dodged that bullet by offering an excuse about homework and chores. When I finally found a way to maneuver her off the phone I hung up feeling confident she would spread the news.

The butterflies in my stomach were having such a righteous party as I laid down to sleep that they kept me up far longer than I intended. Even still, I woke in the morning before my alarm, jittery with excitement. Emmett was on my doorstep within seconds of my alarm going off.

"Hi," he said softly, gazing down at me.

I grinned up at him. "Hi." His eyes were lighter than I'd ever seen them. Clearly, he'd been hunting in the night.

"Have a good night?" I wondered.

"Yes," he said as he shut the door behind him and followed me into the kitchen. "I went hunting with Alice."

"Not Edward?" I asked. I'd been getting the feeling that he and Edward were closest of the four.

"Alice is the most supportive right now," he answered.

"Oh," I thought about that for a moment. "What are the others, if not supportive?"

"Incredulous, for the most part." He rubbed the back of his neck and slumped against the counter where I was making my breakfast.

"They don't approve of me?"

Emmett shook his head. "It's not that. Edward doesn't really care about anything, never really has. Jasper just thinks it's weird I could be so fascinated with a human. He's the newest to our lifestyle and I think he still views you all as a food source."

I made a half frown and lifted my hands in a way that expressed my inability to argue with that statement. "Pizza over salad, man. I get it."

The big vampire laughed and then started into the same thread of questions he'd been asking the day before like he was working from a list. Again, there seemed to be no end to his curiosity. I put some music on and answered his questions gamely while I ate breakfast.

Today, he was interested in people. He dwelled on the familial ties I had to La Push and asked a ton of specifics on the types of friends I had growing up. Eventually, as I knew it would, he asked about boyfriends. This one was tricky.

"I dated a bit," I said, hoping for a quick end to this line of questions.

My reticence caught his attention immediately. "What do you mean? Anyone serious?"

"Yeah, a couple."

"What happened?"

"I don't know," I lied, then amended. "I do know, but it's not pretty, and it's really not worth remembering. Certainly not worth talking about. In the end, it didn't work out and that's all that matters. What about you?"

"Not for a long time," he said, still looking quizzical. "Several flings, but those were all years and years ago… and never with a human."

This piqued my curiosity. "Never ever?"

He dimpled at me. "Nope."

"When did you become a vampire?"

"In 1934."

_Wow_, he was alive for the Great Depression. He saw Prohibition. "But you were twenty-five, weren't people usually married in their teens back then?"

He let out a long breath. "This is a little bit of a story."

"We've got all day," I reminded him.

"I'll give you the short version," he said, and patted at the air, asking for patience. "As you can probably see, I'm a little tall."

This was a massive understatement, of course, but I pinched my lips together to keep from interrupting his story with a snarky retort.

"Back then I was more than a foot taller than the average male, so basically a giant, which made me less of a catch for marriage, more of a great fit as hired muscle."

"You were a gangster?" I asked in astonishment. This was so _interesting._ A thousand questions bubbled up into my brain, what was it like? Was he bootlegging? Did he know Al Capone? Was he making illegal whiskey? Did that mean he was a drinker? How in the hell did he become a vampire in that line of work?

He forestalled my questions with a finger. "More like the gangster's pet. They didn't think I was very smart, and maybe I wasn't, I don't honestly know- it's pretty fuzzy."

"So you're telling me you never dated because you were the town freak?"

He chuckled. "I hope not, but maybe. When Carlisle turned me it was like a light switch came on in my brain. My first clear memories are of waking up with him in his study."

"Why did he turn you?"

"From what I've been told, Carlisle, Edward, and Esme found me in the woods up near Pittsburgh. The guys I was working for beat me up pretty bad, I don't remember why- and left me outside a mother bear's den. The location was probably an accident, but who knows? Anyway, mother-bear was doing a bang-up job of protecting her cubs when Carlisle heard all the noise. He brought the other two with him to investigate.

"I still don't really understand what it was about me that Esme liked, but she asked Carlisle to save me, so he did. Whenever I've asked she just says she couldn't stand to see a guy so young, that never had a chance, pass away without knowing what love was.

"Don't get me wrong, I appreciate it. I just don't really remember much before that."

"Jesus," I said. "Is that why you like bears? Because you lost your first fight?"

"Probably. Ready to go?"

I popped up immediately. "Yes! Can I drive?"

The question stopped him abruptly as he headed to the door. "Why?"

"I sort of want to drive Edward's car?" I made a hopeful grimace that switched to an excited grin as I held my hand out for the key. He looked at me warily for a moment but gave in, dropping the key into my hand and taking the backpack I was carrying.

In a brief flash of foresight, I'd thought to pack a bag the night before. Inside were two water bottles, Cliff Bars, wet wipes, and a small travel first aid kit.

"You're one of those people that is always prepared for anything, aren't you?" he asked, less impressed than amused, as we loaded into the car.

"I try to be, but honestly I wasn't sure how to prepare for a hike with a vampire. Wet wipes were the best I could do."

When I sat in the driver's seat it was so far back and set so low not only could my toes not reach the pedals, I could barely see over the steering wheel. It took one hell of an adjustment to get right.

"Freak," I muttered and frowned up at Emmett's amused gaze. My irritated preoccupation dissolved as I turned the key. When Emmett turned the engine over the perspective from the passenger's seat made the car feel like a normal, if a little loud, VW hatchback. When I did it from the driver's seat, one foot mashing the clutch, the other holding the brake, my fingers wrapped tightly around the wheel, it sounded like a lion was trying to leap out of the engine bay. The vibration of the rumble shook through my spine and I grinned evilly. Once some tunes were queued, I flicked the shifter into reverse, then launched out of the neighborhood onto the 101 West.

"This," I said. "Is amazing." Every time I switched gears the car felt like a beast attempting to pelt away from my control. I gripped the wheel tightly and powered down the highway.

Emmett was watching me closely as we flew, gently weaving around slower cars. After a moment of allowing me the joy of the road, female thrash metal growling through the speakers, Emmett turned the music down.

"You know," he said conversationally. "You really ought to drive less maniacally."

"You don't like the way I drive?" I gave him an exaggerated pout. I did not appreciate him describing my driving the way had I described his. "Where do I get off the highway?"

"Next exit take a right, then drive until the road ends. I'm just saying, if you crash this car, Edward will be pissed, I'll be pretty upset, and you'll probably be dead."

"So, where are we going?" I changed the subject but slowed down to 100mph.

"A trailhead at the end of the next road. It's a place I like to go when it's sunny. Somewhere I can be alone, away from the family."

We both glanced through the windows and watched the last wisps of clouds deteriorate into nothingness.

"Kevin was saying last night that today is supposed to be particularly beautiful. I think he's going fishing."

"And did you tell Kevin what you would be up to today?" There was a note of hope in his voice that I briefly considered allowing him to retain.

"Nope," I decided on the truth. Better that he wouldn't have to worry about retribution if something went wrong.

"But Jessica thinks we're going to Seattle, right?"

"No," I corrected him. "I told her we canceled."

"What the fuck, La?" He exclaimed in a halfhearted semi-rage. "No one knows you're with me?"

"Well, Alice knows, right?"

"Oh yes," he snapped. "Very helpful."

"Hey!" I snapped back. "This was your idea. Not mine. And you gave me all the information. I made an informed decision. If something goes wrong it doesn't make any sense for you or your family to have any public backlash."

"That's the logical argument you're using?" He growled. "Okay, Spock, turn here and go all the way down."

We came to a tree enfolded dead end after several miles and got out of the car. Emmett still seemed to be fuming but I poked at him until he gave me one of his dimpled smiles.

There was no trailhead, no deer tracks, no directional indication at all, but Emmett seemed to know exactly where we were going. Luckily, it wasn't very hard going, and the thin running shoes I was wearing worked perfectly for the terrain.

For the most part, we walked in silence. Occasionally, Emmett would ask another question that he somehow hadn't gotten to in the last two days. We went through birthdays, grade school, and pets. I admitted that I'd had dogs growing up, but after the last one passed away it was too difficult for me to allow myself that kind of partnership. Pets take a piece of you when they go, and I wasn't interested in losing any more pieces. This story left him pensive until he landed on a different line of questioning, and the conversation continued.

It was a five-mile hike that took most of the morning, and somehow it seemed to be over in a flash. Sooner than I could have dared expect there was a soft light filtering through the heavy trees ahead. The golden glow made me eager as I picked up the pace and suddenly found myself bursting through the tree line into one of the loveliest places I'd ever seen.

It was a smallish meadow, perfectly round, and bursting with wildflowers of every color. Little dashes of yellow, purple, and white spotted the landscape between great stretches of lively green. Somewhere nearby a stream bubbled merrily as a soft breeze rifled through my hair, bringing with it the lush scents of the forest.

The sun was directly overhead, filling the circle with warm buttery sunshine. I dashed through the meadow, wanting to see every bit of it from the very middle. It was then I realized Emmett hadn't entered with me.

He was still hidden in the shadows of the trees, watching my delight with cautious eyes. I beckoned toward him, excited to relieve my curiosity.

For a moment, I thought he may have changed his mind but after taking a big breath, visible even from where I stood, he stepped out into the field of flowers.


	13. Revelations

**Music Note:** Teenage Paradise, by Foggy Mountain Rockers

**13\. REVELATIONS**

Emmett lay perfectly still in the grass as I trailed my fingers along the length of his arm. He'd taken off his t-shirt to reveal a tank top underneath that decidedly displayed the reason his family hid from the sun. He was glorious.

Light radiated from every inch of his exposed skin, setting him ablaze with dappled sunlight. Underneath the glow, his skin was smooth, cold, and firm with barely any give. I marveled at it, struggling to find a comparison before finally accepting there was nothing else like it on this earth.

From looking at him this way I could see where the legends of vampires burning in the sun came from. Had he not been wearing a tank top, he would look just like he'd been set aflame: a burning, vengeful angel.

It was not possible for me to stop staring at him, to stop touching him. I picked his hand up and turned it over, tracing the lines in his palm, then comparing the length of his hand to mine. He laced his fingers through mine and sighed in contentment.

"You have no idea how good this feels."

"I think I do," I smiled, reveling in the coolness of his palm against mine. The contact sent tingles down my spine. Being so close to him brought up feelings and urges I hadn't thought about in a long time.

"What are you thinking?" he asked.

"I was wishing I could know what you were thinking, actually," I said. "And I was wishing I wasn't so afraid."

In a flash he was sitting up, face so close to mine that I could see every tiny green fleck in his otherwise grey irises. My heart sped as I stared. He'd changed positions so fast I hadn't been able to track the movement. I knew I should have flinched, or moved away, or shown any sign of self-preservation, but I couldn't move at all.

"I don't want you to be scared," he whispered. The words released me from my rigid state.

"That's not the type of fear I meant, though that's certainly something to consider."

"What are you afraid of," it was supposed to be a question, but he seemed to be as distracted by our closeness as I was and the question mark never made it to the end of the sentence.

Without thinking I leaned forward. The scent of his breath drew me in and I found myself responding without any thought. In that instant his face contorted violently and he drew away from me to stand up, quick as lightning.

As Emmett turned to make a mad dash away from me time seemed to freeze. The entire clearing went eerily quiet, no sounds came from the surrounding trees, even the wind died. I gazed around in the suddenly stagnant air looking for what could have caused this. The flowers dotting the clearing had stopped their dancing, a bird above was caught hanging unmoving in what should have been a lazy spiral, and Emmett was mere feet from me frozen in the process of running away, look of pure determination on his face.

It was over as abruptly as it had begun. Emmett resumed his flight and was gone as quickly as if he had simply disappeared. The leaves continued their sway in the breeze, and the bird went on its way.

_What the fuck?_ I looked around blankly and found Emmett on the other side of the clearing staring at me.

"What happened?" I asked.

"Give me a minute," he called back, but I was sure he wasn't speaking about the same thing I was. Did he not notice time stand still? Maybe I imagined it.

In another flash he was with me again, kneeling before me, hands covering mine in a cool grip.

"I am so sorry," he said.

"For what?" I wondered.

"It probably doesn't make much sense, but for lack of a better analogy- I'm only human."

These words could only mean one thing. He'd sprinted away from me because he had nearly killed me. This realization drove all other troubles out of my head. Emmett noticed the change in my features and gave me a sardonic, self-mocking smile as he leaned back on his heels.

"There it is," he murmured and stood. "Let me show you something. Stay there."

I settled into a cross-legged position and watched him as he began to pace.

"I'm the world's best predator," he explained. "Everything about me is designed to draw you in. They way I look, my voice, my scent…."

He paused as if expecting some sort of response to that, but I was perfectly content to let this play out. I squinted up at him as he restarted his pace between myself and the sun. As he passed before me he became an agitated silhouette, gesturing in short movements.

"The kicker is that I don't even need any of that," he continued when I remained silent. "Watch," he said.

In an instant, he dashed around the meadow at an impossible speed, then stopped to tear a fir tree out of the ground and casually toss it away. He was beautiful like this, absolutely free and unapologetically himself. He flitted back to my side and peered into my face. Whatever he expected to find wasn't there however. He sank to his knees and took my hand up again.

"I don't know why I did that," he said. "I just… I need you to know what this is, what I'm capable of, and how very easy it would be for me to break you."

"Is this why you think you're a monster?" I asked. "Because you're super fast and can toss trees around?"

"No," he said resolutely. "I never worried about being a monster until I met someone I cared about hurting."

"Emmett," I said and sat up on my knees to reach for him. "You're not going to hurt me. I'm not afraid. You don't need to be afraid either."

My fingers reached his face where he knelt, and traced his temple, then his eyes, and ran down his jawline.

"See?" I murmured and inched closer. "You won't hurt me. I trust you."

I cupped his face and gently tugged until he looked at me.

"You won't hurt me," I said for the last time.

A beatific smile spread over his face, as he cupped his hand around mine against his cheek. "No, I don't think I will."

His whole body slumped to the ground beside me and a breath whooshed past his lips. He continued to smile up at the sky as he pulled me down next to him.

"What were you saying? About being afraid?" He asked, returning to our previous discussion.

"I don't really know how to describe it," I shook my head, leaned away from him, and sat up to give myself some room to think. "I'm afraid because… I _know_ I want to stay with you, it all just feels so fast. I know I want this so much, I feel it so deeply already, but I can't see how to do this and keep this life I've carved out for myself. Now I'm worried I'm going to lose you."

"Like Dax," he said sadly, referring to the pet I'd lost. He leaned up on an elbow to look earnestly into my eyes. "I'm not going anywhere, you don't need to be afraid of losing me. Not like that. Look at me! I'm invincible."

"Then why does it feel like you're saying goodbye sometimes?"

He was silent for a moment as he adjusted his posture, sitting straight up in front of me. He absently reached for my hand again as though he needed the reassurance of contact. "I should tell you something," he said hesitantly.

"Anything."

"La," he braced himself. "Wanting to be near me is definitely not in your best interest, not only because of what I am… but because what I am makes me more dangerous to you than anyone else."

I twisted my fingers into his and rubbed circles into his palm to calm him. "Tell me."

"How do I explain?" He took another moment of quiet speculation while I continued to rub patterns into his skin.

"Whiskey," he announced. "You like whiskey, right?"

I nodded, unsure where he was going with this.

"Every person has a scent, a different smell, a flavor, even. The same way whiskies do- you could even call it a bouquet. What may smell like the perfect whiskey to one person can smell like absolute swill to others."

Now I was following and nodded my encouragement.

"Let's say you're a recovering alcoholic. If I locked you in a room with several bottles of whiskey and told you to help yourself, but none of the bottles were ones you particularly enjoyed, you could say no, right?"

"Of course," _but if it was a 21-year single malt scotch… _

"But if it was your favorite one, you'd struggle, right?" he confirmed my thought.

"Sure."

There was a pause while he looked at me expectantly. _So, maybe I'm his version of a super high-end scotch? What's the point?_

"Maybe we should have switched the analogy to a junkie with heroin. Something much more immediately craved for someone less rational than you."

_Oh,_ "I'm your particular brand of heroin."

"More like _exactly_ my brand of heroin," he corrected. "Like the chase for the dragon would be over if I could just taste you."

The rise and fall of his chest stopped as he squeezed his eyes shut. He was holding his breath.

"Is that usual?" It didn't seem like the right question but it was the only one I could think of.

"I talked to my brothers about it," Emmett said after a moment, and I could see him starting to relax again. "Edward, as I've said, lives in his own world mostly, and doesn't notice any human enough to differentiate. He's been on the wagon a long time. Jasper hasn't been on as long but he says it's happened twice for him, once stronger than the other."

"And for you?"

"Never, until now."

My next question was nearly to ask what Jasper had done in this situation, but knowing he hadn't been a part of the family long, the answer was fairly easy to guess.

"So," I hedged. "Are you saying there's no hope for us?"

"No, of course not."

"But if we'd met in a dark alley…"

"It took everything in me not to kill you that day in a room full of people," he clenched his eyes shut again and I realized he was remembering that day as vividly as I was. I stilled the motions I was making on his hand, not wanting to break his concentration.

"I couldn't understand why you hated me so much," I said after a long moment.

"It was like…" he chuckled darkly. "You were some kind of horrible test sent to destroy me. In five seconds I thought of a thousand different ways I could get you out of there to kill you. I couldn't stand being so close to you, I had to get away before I tried to lure you away. You _would_ have followed," he insisted.

"Definitely. It wouldn't have occurred to me not to." I agreed.

"So, I ran." I thought he was finished after this, but he continued hurriedly. "I went all the way to Alaska. I stayed there for a week, and then I got mad again. Mostly with myself because I couldn't believe that your blood actually had the allure I remembered, and then I felt like a coward. And once I was feeling cowardly I knew I had to come home.

"I'm strong, the strongest vampire I've ever met. Who are you to scare me? Some tiny, insignificant human?"

I sniffed at that, but I could see what he meant. As he spoke I was getting a better idea of how large this world I'd fallen into was. Emmett was a speck at the top of the iceberg, and if that were true… what did that mean for me?

No way in the world would I be able to go back to regular life after this. There was no way I could go on now that I knew there was _so much_ out there for me to discover. My thoughts must have been showing on my face because Emmett was watching me intently.

"Go on," I said, returning my full attention to him.

"So I took precautions," he continued. "I over hunted- totally glutting myself on whatever I could find, and I came back. There was no doubt in my mind that I could treat you like anyone else. I was arrogant about it, about my strength.

"When I got home, Edward explained that you hadn't said a word, that you thought about me, and worried you had offended me."

He laughed, "He told me that after a while you got really angry that I didn't come back, and then about your resignation that I wouldn't.

"But I wanted you to forget my behavior, wanted to be sure you didn't think there was anything weird about me or my family. So I tried to get to know you. The more I talked to you, the more I _wanted_ to talk to you, and the more excited and curious I was for your answers. I started craving your presence. Edward thought I was mad. Still does, really…

"And then the van." He winced at the memory. "All I could think as it came barreling toward you was '_not her_.' Later, I could think of a million excuses why I needed to save you. If your blood had spilled my entire family would have been screwed. There's no way I could have contained myself, and I have doubts about Jasper. At the time I just knew I couldn't watch you die."

A small part of my brain was shouting that I should be terrified, that I needed to get up slowly, walk away, and never look back. The rest of my brain was just relieved to finally understand everything that had happened between us. There was a twinge reverberating through my bones, a feeling of rightness.

"And in the hospital?" As I asked I began to realize the overwhelming feeling flooding through me was a revelation, and that this was it for me, I would be with Emmett from this point forward, no matter what.

"I was appalled and ashamed with myself. Angry that I'd risked exposure, embarrassed that you saw through me so quickly, and scared of what would happen if you knew the truth."

He shook his head. "It was bad. You knew something- more than you should, and the family took a vote on what to do. We had a huge fight. The worst one we've ever had since we've all come together, but in the end, we decided rash action was an even bigger mistake, especially when innocent lives were involved.

"Secretly, I was overjoyed. Of course, Edward knew straight away. There are no secrets with Edward. He saw how truly smitten I was and eventually sided with me and Alice, though Jasper was longer coming around. Edward helped by eavesdropping when you were with your friends, just to make sure you didn't say anything, to make sure we weren't in danger. I did my best to ignore you as if that were possible with the way you smell.

"Now here we are. I could never live with myself if I were to hurt you at this point. The thought of you, still, cold, dead… to never see you try to hide a blush again, to never see that look in your eyes when you call me out on my bullshit… it would… it would fucking suck."

"I know what you mean," I said softly, thinking of the slow revelation this conversation had caused to course through my veins. "I'm here, right? Roughly translated- I would prefer death over not knowing you. Tell me what I did before that made you run?"

"It's not you-"

"No, I'm serious, I want to make this as easy for you as possible. Whatever I'm doing that makes you uncomfortable, just tell me. This, for example," I took his hand and smoothed our palms together. "Seems fine…?"

"It's _all_ fine. Just," he struggled to find the right way to explain. "It's your _throat._ I wasn't expecting you to be so close, and then you were and I thought it would be better if I were somewhere I couldn't smell you."

"Okay…" I wasn't sure what to do about that.

"It really is fine," he assured me. "It was only the unexpected closeness. I'm totally in control now. Look, be very still."

I sat rigidly, even holding my breath, as he bent to lower his face toward mine. His nose skimmed my jaw, then my collarbone until his ear rested against my chest where he listened to my heartbeat.

"It's _so_ cool," he sighed. "I miss this, I think."

"Your heartbeat?" I asked in a whisper.

"Yeah, it's great to be close to one, knowing I won't be eating it."

I giggled despite myself and he grinned with me.

"Here," he took my hand and placed it against his cheek. "Feel how warm that is?"

It _was_ almost warm. Where his neck remained icy, his cheek was almost rosy with the heat it had retained from my body.

"I wish there were some way that I could explain to you the confusion of the things I feel when I'm close to you, but as you're not addicted to any drugs I'm aware of…."

"Explain however you can," I was still sitting unmoving while he spoke, his fingers trailing up and down my neck, tracing my collarbones, and tickling around the edges of my ears. Blood was surging in my veins. The more he touched me, the more my hormones reacted. It seemed impossible that he couldn't smell my arousal, yet he didn't mention it.

"On the one hand, the monster inside me wants nothing more than to know exactly how well your scent translates to taste. But there's another part of me that doesn't care about the thirst. That only sees a beautiful woman and wants to hold you in my arms. I haven't felt desires like this in more time than I care to admit."

"It's not as long for me, but I think I can empathize on that point," I said, my breath beginning to come in short gasps as my skin tingled where Emmett drew lines across my skin.

"I'm scared to be close to you," he said, leaning in to breathe more of my scent. "But I can't seem to stop myself. I don't know how to do this without hurting you."

This was the first time I realized we had two options; we risk my demise, or we discover a new way to be together. There was no doubt anywhere in me that we would continue to try. I knew beyond any doubt that Emmett was going to be the last love of my life.

One way or another, this meant that I would have to die.

Either I would become a vampire, or he would kill me on accident. This knowledge became stone hard and bone-deep. For a moment I floundered. Could I do this? Is this what I wanted? An eternity of thirst with the greatest love of my existence, or painful death at his hands? Either way I lost my family, and they lost me.

The answer should have been obvious… my stomach rumbled audibly.

"You need to eat," Emmett realized. "Why didn't I think of that?"

"It's okay," I said. "I did, but we should probably head back before I get hangry."

Emmett paused in the act of pulling me to my feet. "Hangry?"

"Like you, when you haven't hunted in a while and your eyes go black and you get all surly. Only mine happens nearly daily." I pulled the last Cliff Bar from my pack and tore a chunk off in my teeth. "Ready?"

"Sure," he said. "But can I show you one more thing?"

A flare of excitement brightened the look in his eyes in a way I couldn't refuse. "Of course."

He scooped me up as I shoved the last bit of energy bar into my mouth and took off through the forest. His gait was so smooth and unobtrusive that I would never have realized he was running had my eyes not been locked open, watching the trees speed by at a sickening pace. Our speed was such that the forest turned into a blanket of opaque brown and green with little spots of color marking birds and flowers.

The run was just long enough to give me time to relax into Emmett's grip. I knew he wouldn't run into anything, and once that realization hit I was able to marvel at his speed and strength without fear. He was breathing, of that I was sure, as I could feel the rise and fall of his chest, but he was never winded. He didn't even seem to need to look where he was going as much of the run was spent peering into my face.

The run lasted about fifteen minutes. We were standing beside the Volkswagen in mere minutes after the same distance that had taken us most of the day.

"Awesome, right?" he asked with a throaty chuckle. He looked happier than I had seen him yet, spirits so high his eyes danced and he seemed to flit around.

"Seriously awesome," I agreed, his enthusiasm ringing a genuine response from me.

"I was thinking," he said and flitted over to stand directly in front of me. "I'd like to try something…"

"What?" I smiled up at him, trying not to show how overwhelmed I was by the day and my revelation about death.

"Hold very, very still." His expression turned to the same one I'd seen earlier when time had frozen, of intense concentration and determination.

Gingerly, he bent and pressed his lips ever so softly against mine. The smell of him enveloped me in the same way it had earlier. Before I was aware of any movement my hands were clenched in his hair, and my lips were parted to accept more of his mouth into mine. I wanted to feel every inch of his body pressed against me, wanted to know how his hips would feel between my thighs. I wanted…. and then I realized he'd gone so still he may as well have been a sculpture. His eyes were guarded and his expression was one of complete, careful apathy.

"Whoops," I breathed and untangled myself from him. "Sorry!"

"No," he rewarded me with an impish grin after a moment. "It's okay, it's tolerable. I can do this."

"Tolerable?" I narrowed my eyes and placed my hands on my hips. "Rude…."

"You know what I mean," he dismissed my acerbic look with a wave of his hand. "I'm stronger than I thought."

While I was proud of him and happy that he could so successfully test his limits, I wondered if now would be a good time to suggest the obvious solution to our problem. He wouldn't have to be so strong if I didn't smell like food. As he opened the passenger door for me I considered the idea and decided it would be best not to bring it up. For some reason, I already guessed he wouldn't be receptive to the idea. At the time, I didn't know why, I just knew Emmett wasn't ready for that conversation.


	14. Stalker

**Author's Note: **CW: very mild adult content

**Music Note:** Emmett is singing True Love, by Carl Perkins followed by Firebug, by JD McPherson, and for the end of the chapter Knock 123, by Imelda May.

**14\. STALKER**

Emmett drove at a sedate, almost lazy pace, taking the turns leisurely as he sang along with Carl Perkins. It was absolutely natural that he should be able to sing as well as he did everything else. I wondered idly if it came with the vampire package or if he was able to carry a tune before he was turned. The next song on the list was a more modern one that I was intimately familiar with.

"You like rockabilly?" I asked, amused.

"So far the 50's have been my favorite decade. Especially musically speaking…" he turned the music down so we could talk. "And this song is super reminiscent Jerry Lee, so yeah. I love rock piano," he gave me a huge wink. "Doesn't beat Perkins though."

"You won't hear any argument from me," I grinned back. "Do you mind if I ask you a question?"

"What's up?"

"Esme asked Carlisle to save you…" I began. "What does that mean? How does it work?"

This was not a question he wanted to answer. The line of his jaw tightened noticeably but eventually, he gathered his thoughts and spoke.

"It's really difficult. Not many of us are capable of it. Carlisle has always been the most compassionate of all of us. Somehow, where most of our kind fail, he has been able to hold on to his humanity. I think that's why he's capable of handling the scent of blood without much discomfort. It's also why he's able to turn others without killing them. He's a truly amazing man. For me, it was just really painful.

"Edward was first in the family and I think Carlisle acted from loneliness. Esme came very soon after Edward. She'd fallen from a cliff and the hospital sent her straight to the morgue. Somehow her heart was still beating, and Carlisle was able to save her."

This did not answer my question, as much as I appreciated the insight into his family dynamics. I tried a different tactic. "Do you have to be dying to become a vampire?"

"God no," Emmett coughed. "That's just Carlisle. He wouldn't do it to someone that had any other choice."

"Then they found you…"

"Yes," he agreed. "Then Alice and Jasper found us. They're very rare, those two. They found their consciences without any outside help. Jasper belonged to a very different type of family, but he hated it, became depressed, and wandered off on his own. Eventually, Alice found him, and they came to find us together."

"Was it her precognition that brought y'all together?"

"Basically," he smiled at my eager curiosity and lifted our entwined hands to brush against my cheek. "It's much less definite than an absolute 'precognition' sort of thing. She sees _possible_ futures. Things that _could_ come to pass, but the future is subjective. Things change."

"That sounded like a challenge," I ventured.

He hesitated. "Fortune telling. You can't really predict every available outcome."

"What sorts of things does she see?"

"Well, she saw Jasper. Even knew he was looking for her before he knew," he chuckled. "It's a great story, maybe one day she can tell it to you."

The thought of getting to know his family had me both excited and terrified.

"Then she saw Carlisle and the whole family so she and Jasper came to find us together. She's mostly sensitive to nonhumans. I don't know why, but it's helpful because she is able to warn us of trouble, or if others of our kind come close."

"Others?" Part of my revelation earlier had hinted at this, and I was relieved Emmett broached the subject before I had the chance to pester him with a million more questions. "Are there a lot of you?"

"We're not as numerous as you'd think. Mostly we're nomadic. Only those like us have any real chance of settling and living with humans for any amount of time. There's only one other family like ours that we know of. They're in Alaska in a small village.

"We lived with them for a while, but we got a bit too noticeable so we split up and traveled a while til we landed in Forks. We do run into others occasionally as most of us prefer the north."

"Less sun?"

"Yep," he said. "It's really nice to be able to come out in the day… like we're almost normal."

"Well, the legends make sense, that's for sure," I intoned as we pulled in front of my house. "Did Alice come from a family like Jasper's?"

"No," his brow scrunched. "That _is_ a mystery. Alice doesn't remember her human life at all, and she doesn't even know who created her. She woke alone. The person who created her walked away and none of us can understand why, or how they even could. If she hadn't had that other sense, if she hadn't known she would eventually find Jasper and Carlisle she would have turned into a total savage."

My stomach interrupted with a loud rumble. "Damn."

"You should get some dinner," he said.

"Would you like to come in?" I asked suddenly. I didn't know why I blurted it out like that, I just didn't want him to leave. There were still so many questions I wanted to ask, and I wasn't done listening to him talk.

"Would you like me to?" he asked absurdly self-consciousness, but I thought he looked pleased, too.

"Sure," I turned to open my door. Emmett was already standing outside of the window reaching for the handle.

"How very human of you," I complimented him.

"It's definitely resurfacing," was his mild response.

Together we walked up my drive. Emmett reached the door ahead of me and opened the door easily. I frowned at the open door, bemused. I was very sure I had locked it as we'd left that morning.

"Wasn't that…?" I stuttered.

"Yes, I used the key you hide over the door."

I stepped through the threshold, set my keys in their candy skull shaped dish and hung my sweater and bag on the rack. I was pretty damned sure I'd never used that key in front of him. Did he sniff it out the way he found me in Port Angeles? We walked through to the kitchen where I turned to him, eyebrows raised and waited until he explained.

He offered an unrepentant shrug. "I got curious about you."

"You were spying on me?" There was a small note of alarm in my voice.

"What else is there to do at night? I didn't think I was ever going to talk to you again, but I couldn't stay away either." He slumped into a chair at the dining table as I stood by the fridge, arms crossed in disapproval.

He was stalking me. Knowing what I now knew about him made it less creepy and more frightening. It felt a whole lot more like a predator investigating its prey than a rapist considering a victim. I shuddered at the thought.

"How often?"

"Hmm?" he asked as though I'd pulled him from some other thought. He was watching me carefully; probably realizing the admission wasn't a good one.

"How often did you come here?"

"Almost every night."

"Still?" I yelped.

"Yep." There was still very little apology in his voice.

"Why?"

"You're interesting when you sleep." A grin spread across his features that I wanted to smack off. The effort would probably break my hand, though.

"You talk," he explained.

"Oh, for fuck's sake." I knew I spoke in my sleep. My sister used to tease me about it. I couldn't get away with anything when I was a kid because we shared a room. She once discovered who my crush was after I admitted it in my sleep. The entire school was aware of it by the end of the very next day. Eric, my crush, was too embarrassed to talk to me ever again and I never lived it down.

Another time in middle school I snuck out after our mother was asleep. Eleanor woke up because she couldn't hear me talking. While she didn't rat on me straight away, she used it as blackmail for a year. Once I moved out on my own I didn't need to worry about my propensity for telling secrets in my sleep, until now.

Emmett was watching me flounder with deep amusement. "Are you mad at me?" He didn't seem too terribly worried about it.

"Yes." I wasn't really. I would have invited him to stay if he'd asked or if I'd thought it was an option.

Instead of continuing the conversation I dug through the fridge until I found some lasagna leftovers and popped them into the microwave. We didn't speak again until the steaming plate was on the table in front of me.

"What can I do?" he whispered.

"That depends on what you heard." I shoved a huge forkful of lasagna into my mouth. It burned my tongue and the roof of my mouth so badly tears sprung in my eyes.

Emmett was kneeling next to me in a second holding my hand and peering up into my face contritely. Clearly, he'd misinterpreted the tears.

"Please don't be upset!" he pleaded. "You talk about your mom a lot, and you worry over your sister. One time you said, 'it's_ so green,'_ and I couldn't tell if it was a good thing or a bad thing." He chuckled at the memory.

The embarrassment built up. I knew what was coming. "Anything else?"

"You say my name…" he said, softly. "A lot."

"Ugh." _How mortifying._ I wasn't planning on ever telling him how truly obsessed I'd become.

"Don't worry," he pulled me off the chair and sat back on the floor where I curled into his lap, cheek against his chest. "If I could dream it would only be about you."

We sat like that until my stomach protested and we both giggled. He helped me back into my chair then returned to his own seat.

"There was another thing," he added after a moment.

"Oh?" I asked through a mouthful of my dinner.

"When it's raining really hard you get restless," he began, watching me intently. I knew where this was going, too. The color drained from my face. "And you say things like, 'he's here, he's coming back…'." Sometimes you shout 'run' if you're having a particularly bad night. What's that all about?"

"Just nightmares," I made a truly pathetic attempt at passing it off.

"No, it's not," he pressed. "But it's okay if you don't want to talk about it right now."

"Thank you," I told him and felt my shoulders relax away from my ears. I hadn't even noticed they'd scrunched up. I finished my lasagna and put the plate in the dishwasher. "I'm going to take a human minute if that's okay."

"Take your time." He stood and headed for the living room where I heard the television click on followed by the familiar clunking intro for Netflix. With my dishes washed I dashed up the stairs, kicked off my clothes, and headed straight for the shower.

The steaming water pounded luxuriously onto my shoulders, kneading my muscles, sore from the hike. I imagined the water sweeping my stress away, swirling down the drain with it. After a while of sitting there, allowing the lava hot water to beat me in the back I began to plan. Emmett would have to turn me into a vampire if we were going to be together. A small doubt in the back of my mind whined that he might not want me, but I quashed it and resolved to broach the subject once I was out of the shower. Tomorrow wasn't soon enough for this conversation.

With that in mind, I squeezed some shampoo into my palm and worked it into my roots; taking my time. My intuition was telling me this wouldn't be an easy conversation. For starters, how would one broach this topic of conversation?

_Excuse me, Emmett! Are you comfortable spending the rest of eternity with me? Great- will you just go ahead and bite me so we can get over all this awkwardness?_ Somehow, I didn't think that would work. I needed a conversation opener.

The rest of my shower process was slow, familiar, and relaxing. When I was done I pulled on some boxers and an old t-shirt- he'd already seen me in these, so I may as well continue. Hair still dripping with water I padded down the stairs to join Emmett on the couch.

"You look beautiful," he glowed at me as I took my seat. A blush threatened to cover my cheeks.

"You too," I said flippantly. "Thanks."

He shook his head and scooped me into his side as I sat down. Once I was comfortable he turned toward me to lay his cheek against mine, mouth by my ear. His breath tickled my neck as he began tracing my jaw with his nose. His fingers danced across my collarbones eliciting an immediate response from my body. One of his arms was wrapped firmly around my waist in an iron grip that made my bones turn to jelly. As he continued to stroke his nose along my neck, planting tiny kisses along my jaw every so often, my breath began to come in shaky gasps. I arched gently into him, heart pounding, wanting very much to straddle him.

"Mmm…" he breathed. "You smell so wonderful."

"It seems to be a lot easier for you to be near me…" I hedged between gulps of air.

"Does it seem that way?" he asked and brushed my wet hair back to press his lips against my carotid artery. I stifled a moan.

"Yep," I managed, and pulled away cautiously. He froze with jaw clenched, eyes dancing with excitement. He was also holding his breath.

Eventually, he relaxed. "Mind over matter," he intoned. "Did I do something wrong?"

"Lord no," I lifted my hands to show how they were shaking. "I am so turned on right now I was about to throw myself at you. You're driving me nuts."

"Really?" he asked, alight with triumph.

"I might have to take another human moment…" I mused. "So why is it so much easier now?"

"It's not easy," he corrected me. "I think this afternoon I was just unsure of my resolution. I'm not now. I don't think I could I could hurt you if I wanted to."

He brushed my cheek with a cool thumb and leaned in to kiss me chastely.

"Emmett." This was as good a time as any, I supposed. Waiting wouldn't make an argument easier, and this seemed like the easy in I was looking for.

"Hmm?" he shifted so he could look at me face on.

"Are we going to be able to have a physical relationship?" I hurried the question out. If I took the time to try to make it more intelligently worded I'd chicken out. He was silent for so long I started to fidget. "Do… do you want… one?"

"Fuck yes," he shot out, and it looked like it pained him. "But I also want to eat you. I could kill you on accident when I'm being careful. You saw me break off a tree today and throw it like it was nothing… because it _was_ nothing to me. If I let my guard down around you at all… as it would be with _that_ kind of distraction… no."

"No?" I asked, stunned, but feeling like this would prove my point in just a minute. "Never?"

"You're too fragile. I can't let myself hurt you, La. I could never live with myself."

"That's how I know you won't hurt me even if you let your instincts lead. Look at today!" I exclaimed. "I'm still here, you're still here… we're both sitting here right now because we made the decision- with all the information on the table, to be together. Are you telling me that you plan on having a full relationship with me without ever having sex?"

"Delilah, this isn't fair." Emmett was pleading now, and I couldn't really see why. I didn't feel any anger, this was simply a negotiation. "I plan on having a full relationship with you… _alive._"

The emphasis on the last word spoke volumes. He never planned on turning me into a vampire. The incredulity and disappointment was written all over my face.

"You're telling me right now you are willing to risk _Death_…" The way he said it implied a capital D. "In order to have sex."

A shudder ran through me that had nothing to do with fear. He was looking at me with such serious intensity it was magnetic. This vision of him, with low burning frustration plain on his face was as arousing as his touch had been.

"No. Not just to have sex." I redirected my thoughts to the facts at hand. "We've already made the decision to be together, but it won't be possible for us to be together for long if I remain human."

I let those words hang in the air. Emmett looked stricken. He was absolutely still, staring at me as though I'd turned into an alien.

"I'm going to die one way or another by your own admission," I finished.

"Is that what this is really about? You want me to turn you into a vampire?" He thundered out the question, voice reverberating from the walls.

"Yes."

"You have no idea what you're asking." He rubbed his face, pressing his fingers into his eye sockets. I reached for him, pulling one of his hands away and holding on to it as I knelt at his feet so he would look at me.

"You say you're not alive but you're here…" I said gently. "We're having this conversation, speaking real words- I mean, assuming this isn't all in my head. You're upset, you're feeling emotions about this. How can you say that isn't life?"

Emmett grasped at the hand he was holding and placed it on his heart. "Is it, though? Do I look even remotely like a living human? I don't have a heartbeat, Delilah. I'm _not_ alive. And I can't be the one to kill you. I can't."

"You look pretty alive to me right now," I growled.

"No. The answer is no. I'm not doing that. You have too much left to see and experience as a human. I won't be the one to end that."

There was nothing left to say on the subject. We would have to save it for another day. The same realization must have crossed Emmett's mind as well, as he pulled me back into his side. I laid my head into the crook of his shoulder and curled up, feeling good about at least starting the conversation.

"What are we going to do?" I asked after a few moments. There was more hopelessness in my voice than I was feeling.

"We're going to let you live and see what happens." Another few moments passed as I finally noticed what Emmett had chosen to watch. Captain Picard was asking for "Tea, Earl Grey, Hot!" while adeptly navigating the crew of the Enterprise through a tricky alien encounter. When Emmett spoke again his voice was thoughtful and kind.

"Do you remember the day Mike asked you to go to the club with him?"

"Yeah, that was the day you started talking to me again," I murmured. "God, you pissed me off."

He chuckled at that. "I mention it because it brought up this huge flare of resentment and fury. It took me a really long time to recognize it as jealousy because I've never had to be jealous before. At the time I just needed to know why you turned him down. I didn't know if it was for Jessica, like you said, or for someone else… And then I realized what I was doing. Why did I care? I tried _so_ hard not to care. But you looked so beautiful that day, you had your hair in a roll, and you were wearing that cute dress with the bees on it.

"That was the first night I came here. I felt like such a fucking creep."

It was my turn to chuckle. "It's pretty creepy, Emmett."

"Hey- this is my story, shush!" he tickled my ribs before continuing. "I sat there in your room going through all the pros and cons. I'm not a great philosophical thinker… It's never been my strong suit, but I knew I wanted to do _right_ by you. So what was the best course of action? I went back and forth for hours as you slept and then suddenly… you said my name."

"That's it?"

"Yeah," he smiled down at me. "That's it. And it was everything. My entire world changed. Shifted around and turned up on its head and suddenly you were the center of it. I could never go back, I could never pretend to ignore you again."

"Why are you telling me this?"

"I don't want you to ever think even for a fraction of a second that I don't want you. I need you to know that I didn't say no about turning you because there's even the smallest doubt in my mind that I'll love you forever. I said no for your safety and your future, _not_ because I don't want you with me for eternity."

There was no way to respond to the gravity of what he told me. The sweetness of his expression made my heart ache.

"Thank you," I whispered. I didn't know what else to say so I stood from the couch, and pulled him up with me. "I need to go to bed, that hike nearly killed me this morning."

We climbed the stairs and fell into my bed. Attempting to sleep seemed like a pointless endeavor, so I wrapped myself in a blanket to keep the chill of Emmett's skin off and curled into his side.

"I'll never sleep with you here," I muttered grumpily.

"Why?" he laughed. "You've been doing it every night for a couple of weeks at least."

"Creep," I added, again. "But I didn't know, so it doesn't count."

"Okay," he shifted slightly to pull me tighter to his side, then kissed the top of my head. Breath tickled through my hair as he inhaled deeply.

"Are you sniffing me? I thought you were desensitized!"

"Not entirely, and you just smell so damned good I can't help it. Like baking spices and oak. It's seriously mouthwatering."

"Well, that's…" I searched for the right word. "Nice?"

I lifted my chin for a proper kiss, lamenting the necessity of chasteness. It made sense, but while I didn't want to make him uncomfortable I was still a human in my mid-twenties.

Emmett returned the kiss softly at first, then more insistently. An arm snaked around my waist to pull me closer as he began to devour my mouth. His tongue flicked along my upper lip sending lightning down my spine. I responded enthusiastically, taking his scent into my nose and kissing him back in earnest. He tasted of sweet basil candies, white pepper, and lemon. This was exactly the smell I'd so enjoyed from his leather jacket. Tasting it was so much better than I could have imagined.

My arms wound up around his neck as he rolled me onto my back where he braced himself so he wouldn't crush me with his weight. His exploration of my mouth progressed to butterfly kisses along my jaw, nibbling my ears, and finally licking a line along my carotid artery.

My back arched to press my body into his. My knee lifted, knocking the blanket away to hook around his hip. A day full of small intimacies had left me hungry and on edge. I was frantic with blind desire, attempting to touch as much of him as I could. While one hand locked into Emmett's hair, the other lifted his shirt so I could feel the lean muscles under his shoulder blades move.

One of his cool hands slid from my upraised knee down my thigh to my hip causing me to shake in pleasure. I knew he would stop any second, he had made it very clear this sort of thing couldn't ever happen, but he didn't stop. Didn't disentangle my fingers from his hair, didn't flee to the other side of the room when I pressed myself against him. His gravelly voice mumbled something in my ear, his breath rasping around the words making them unintelligible. My blood rushed through my veins in response, breaths turning into short gasps, goosebumps racing across my flesh.

"Emmett," I whispered, and gripped his hand gently. "May I?"

He only grunted and covered my mouth with his. I opened my knee wide, and guided his hand from my hip to the waistband of my boxers. When he didn't object I slid his fingers beneath my boxers and downward. As soon as his cold fingers delved into my folds I exploded. My eyes squeezed shut as waves of snapping pleasure rushed through me. I gripped him tightly, shuddering against his chest, face buried in his shoulder, gasping for air.

"Fuck…" I finally managed as my quaking subsided. Emmett was completely rigid and unmoving. Once I let go of him he lifted himself from me, slowly disentangling our legs. His jaw was clenched, lips drawn to a fine line, and his eyes were very bright. He didn't speak but he motioned with his hands for me to stay where I was and then flitted away.

I opened the window to let a cool breeze flood into the room and clean out some of the sticky scent in the air as I waited for him to come back. It was nearly half an hour before he returned.

"Are you okay?" I asked as he sat carefully at the edge of the bed.

"Yeah, I'm sorry," he shook his head. "I don't know why I did that, you just smell so good and I shouldn't have and… I'm sorry."

"I'm definitely not sorry." A liquid sort of languor had suffused my muscles. I was feeling the calm contentment that always followed release.

"Come here, I'll be good." I patted the bed and wrapped myself back up in the blanket.

He took his previous place and carefully scooped me back into his arms. We were quiet for several long moments, but I wanted to listen to him talk.

"Tell me more about your family," I finally said, having decided talking about what had just happened wouldn't help either of us at the moment. "Alice and Edward both have talents… do you? Do the rest of your family? Why do the talents happen?"

"I thought you were trying to sleep," he sounded a little relieved. "We don't really know why it happens. Carlisle thinks we bring our strongest traits with us and then they're intensified. So Edward was probably already sensitive to other people…"

"…and Alice must have had some precognitive abilities," I finished for him. "That makes as much sense as anything, I guess. What did you bring?"

"Strength," he said. "Like I said, I've never met a stronger vampire. Carlisle brought his compassion, Esme her ability to love passionately, and Jasper… He's interesting. Jasper was really likeable in his first life. He had a talent for bringing people around to his point of view…."

"Jasper's talent is charisma?" I giggled. That made him sound like a Dungeons & Dragons character. "That is really helpful?" I offered.

"You have no idea. He was _charismatic_ in his first life, now he actually has the ability to change the emotions of those around him. Calm a room of angry people, or excite a room from lethargy. It's really impressive."

"Wow," I said, imagining the implications. "So where did this all start? Someone had to be the first vampire, right? Do you have any lore? Or is there a first one alive?"

"Carlisle has some theories on it, but you'll have to ask him. For now, you sleep."

A yawn escaped me and I realized how very tired I was. As much as I didn't believe sleep would ever take me with Emmett in my bed, it eventually did, and I drifted off into dreamless oblivion.


	15. Coven

**Music Note:** Runaway Train by the John Lindberg Trio

**15\. COVEN**

Wakefulness came slowly and begrudgingly. It felt as though my eyes had been plastered together. Had I been drinking last night? No… I'd been with… I gasped and shot up.

"Morning, beautiful!" a cheerful gravelly voice said. Emmett was lounging on the chaise on the far side of my room reading a book.

"Morning," I croaked, then noticed what he was wearing. "You changed… did you go home?"

I yawned and dove back under the covers as he answered. "Yeah, I thought it would be better if I didn't have to perform the walk of shame for your neighbors."

I scoffed from underneath my pillows. "Who cares about _those_ fucking guys?"

"Not you, apparently. Want some coffee?" There was no squeak of protest from the chaise, not a single soft footstep to be heard, but suddenly the blanket and pillow were being lifted slightly from my head and Emmett's grey eyes were peering underneath. I nodded petulantly at him.

Once he retreated I bolted to the bathroom to clean myself up. As I scrubbed my teeth I briefly considered taking another shower to help me wake up, but decided a quick splash of water on my face would suffice. When I returned to my room to change Emmett was back in the chaise with a fresh cup of coffee beside him. It was the perfect ratio of coffee to cream. I inhaled the rich, nutty aroma deeply and smiled.

"Mmm, it's perfect," I complimented and set the mug down to sit in his lap. "How did you know?"

"Honestly, I had to Google how to brew it right, but that seemed to match the smell that comes out of your travel mug at school."

Did one ever get used to those types of statements? "How was your night?"

"Wonderful," he kissed my nose. "You said you loved me."

"Oh, you knew that already."

"Yes, but it was nice to hear it." The look on Emmett's face was so awkwardly pleased I couldn't resist.

"I love you," I told him.

"I love you," he tucked my hair behind my ear and kissed me. "Breakfast time!"

I gasped loudly, covered my throat with both hands and fell backward off his lap. He caught me easily before I hit the ground and gave me a little growl.

"Breakfast time for the _human!_" He stood and tossed me over his shoulder then picked up the coffee mug and headed downstairs. In the kitchen, he set me down at the table, placed my coffee before me, then started frying eggs. Clearly, he was trying to make up for his lack of foresight on the previous day.

Once the food was before me, Emmett took a seat across the table to watch me eat. The eggs were delicious, perfectly salted and just a little runny in the middle. The toast he'd made was lathered in butter and just barely brown.

"Emmett this is amazing. Were you a cook in your former life?"

"Don't think so. I googled the eggs, too."

I laughed and dug in. "What's on the agenda today?"

"Well…" he shuffled his feet under the table and leaned forward. I watched as he deliberately chose each word. "How would you feel about meeting my family today?"

The coffee cup paused halfway to my mouth. "What."

"I thought it might be nice if we went to see them together," he shifted uncomfortably. "But if that's too scary a thought we can do something else."

"It's only scary because meeting the boyfriend's parents is always scary," I grimaced. A million possible poor outcomes flooded my brain. Not a single one of them had anything to do with one of them eating me. "What if they don't like me? I mean, do they know I _know_ about all of you?"

"Oh yeah," he waved a hand dismissively and shook his head. "They were taking bets on whether or not I'd bring you home yesterday. Though why anyone would bet against Alice, I'll never understand.

"And anyway, we don't really have secrets in the family, what with Alice seeing your every decision and Edward picking everything else right out of your head."

"And Jasper making everyone feel warm and fuzzy enough to always tell the truth."

"You were paying attention," he smiled. "Yes, that helps."

"So did Alice see me coming?" I meant it as a quick, easy, conversational question but Emmett's reaction was immediate and unsettling. His face clouded dramatically and his whole body looked stiff and apprehensive. "What?" I asked, startled by the quick change in demeanor.

"Something like that," he muttered, voice flat and forbidding. "All finished?"

I nodded, deciding to let it go for now and stacked the silverware on to the plate.

"Go get dressed, I'll wash up."

What does one wear to meet a family of vampires? I stared into my closet shifting things around until I finally settled on the bumblebee dress Emmett said he'd liked and pulled the front of my hair into a roll, tossing the rest into a messy bun. He was waiting for me at the foot of the stairs, leather jacket folded over his arm.

He was an absolute vision of perfection in biker boots, fitted jeans and green button up shirt left open around the neck. I was pleased to discover the green in his shirt matched the green accents on my dress.

"You look delectable."

"You're really going to have to stop describing me as edible or I won't believe you when you tell me you're not going to eat me."

"Maybe I will," he swung me around as I reached the bottom step and gave me a long passionate kiss before setting me on my feet. "After all, there's more than one way to eat a beautiful woman."

This response received an enormous snort. "Why, how very forward of you, Mr. Cullen!" I shook myself to get ready and grabbed my keys out of the little skull shaped dish. "Let's do this before I chicken out."

"And to be clear, you're worried- not because you're literally walking into a vampire's den, but because those vampires just happen to be my parents?"

"Yes."

"You're amazing."

"I'm terrified."

Apparently, Emmett had chosen to leave Edward's Volkswagen and run back to my house because my Fiat was the only car parked in my drive. Emmett leaned in and hitched the seat back, allowing as much room as possible for his legs, and folded himself into the seat.

"See?" he crowed triumphantly. "I fit."

"Barely," I pointed to his knees jutting up next to the steering wheel. "Why don't you have the Volkswagen?"

"Edward wanted to keep it today."

"Should I drive?" His knee was knocking into the gear shifter.

"Nah," he managed to get the seat back another notch and adjusted it until he was able to drive comfortably. "The road to our house is tricky. This is fine."

We set off down the road in a northeastern direction. The road we were taking was following the bends in the Calawah River, sleepily circling back on itself before heading north. Eventually, we passed all of the other houses entirely and I was left watching the trees sweep by in an endless pattern. I'd put on one of my favorite rockabilly stations, and Emmett was singing along with the John Lindberg Trio as the road meandered along.

For a time I was content to watch the forest and listen to his incredible singing but my curiosity was getting the better of me. Just as I was about to ask how much further we'd be going a small opening between ferns appeared on our left. He turned on to it and gunned down a tightly twisting, pebbled road. There was only several meters visibility ahead of us, but Emmett obviously knew the road by heart.

We continued on this track for a couple of miles until finally there was break in the ancient moss-covered trees that revealed what looked like a meadow. As we pulled to a stop in front of the house I realized it was a yard, not a meadow, but it behaved like a natural phenomenon. On the north side of the yard, six primordial cedar trees kept the acre-wide yard in semi-gloom with their broad sweeping branches. In fact, the ring of trees kept the entire lawn in shadow right up to the house, which had a lovely partial wrap-around porch on the bottom of its three levels.

If I had been expecting anything, it certainly wasn't this gorgeous, timeless piece of architecture. The house was probably a hundred years old but cared for with such obvious fondness. The facade was brick and wood paneling painted white with light blue shutters. The windows on the upper levels had beautiful wrought iron fixtures cupping the bottom panes that may have made more sense some time in the 19th century. The doors were either original or perfect restorations of some kind of deep dark wood with a rosy sort of hue.

Mine was the only car in sight. There was a portion of the house to the left where the porch didn't extend that must have been a garage addition. It was the same height as the rest of the house, so I assumed there must be a lofted room included in the space as well. Surely it wasn't a multi-level garage, right?

A river was burbling happily close by, but hidden in the obscurity of the forest. Birds twittered and sang all around us completing a picturesque scene from an old movie.

"Wow," I said, flatly as I joined Emmett outside of the car.

"You like it?" he rumbled into my ear.

"Very much."

"Esme rebuilt it herself. Ready?" he placed a hand at the small of my back in show of moral support.

"Nope," I answered with a contradictory nod. "Let's do this."

My hands were shaky and sweaty. I tried to unobtrusively dry them on my dress, attempting to make it look as though I was straightening it out.

"You look amazing," he took my hand before I could start ringing it and opened the ancient looking, hand-carved door.

The first thing I noticed upon entering was that entire back wall had been removed and replaced with windows from floor to ceiling. Next, every single wall had been removed from the bottom floor to create an open, inviting living space complete with leather couches, plush rugs, and entertainment system. To the far right, I could see into the dining area and straight into a massive heavily updated kitchen. Why they could possibly need a kitchen was beyond me, but I supposed they would need to keep up appearances.

Directly to my left was a raised dais with a full-sized grand piano on it. Dr. and Mrs. Cullen were standing on the dais beside the piano, hands clasped casually before them. They didn't move as we entered doing their best not to startle me. Edward was sitting across the room on a couch reading off a tablet. Hands flicking the screen far more quickly than anyone could possibly be reading.

"Welcome," said Dr. Cullen quietly in measured tones. He carefully stepped off the dais and lifted a hand for me to shake.

"It's nice to meet you officially, Dr. Cullen," I said and shook his hand. His fingers were cold like Emmett's of course, his handshake firm only because the texture of his skin was so hard.

"Call me Carlisle," he offered with a smile. "This is my wife Esme."

The person in question stepped off the dais and lifted her hands to grip mine. "It's so nice to meet you, La."

"Thank you for having me," I smiled up at her, as indeed, she was considerably taller than I was. "Your home is beautiful. Emmett said you rebuilt it yourself?"

"Yes, architecture and decorating are passions of mine." She gave me a warm encouraging look then glanced back at Edward. It was clear they'd planned the meeting this way to ensure I wouldn't be frightened. The lengths to which they'd gone warmed my heart, though they were unnecessary.

Edward walked slowly toward me with a soft calming smile.

"Hi Edward, it's nice to finally meet you as well." I gave him a bright smile to dispel everyone's unease, and thought, _Thank you for supporting Emmett._

He tilted his head in polite acknowledgment, but I thought I saw a small smile curve the corners of his mouth. I turned back to Esme and realized she was looking at me with a mixture of bewilderment, affection, and pride. She thought I was brave I realized, and almost laughed out loud. There had been a tiny scream building in the back of my brain through this entire introduction. I wasn't brave I was so fucking scared I wanted to crawl into a hole and never come out.

I caught Edward's eye again and realized he'd caught my entire inner dialogue and found it amusing. His laughter had a massive calming effect and I was more readily able to turn toward Emmett to ask about Alice when she appeared at the top of the stairs.

"La!" She called down to me with pure joy, like we were old friends that hadn't seen each other in a long time. I supposed her abilities made it seem like we were just that in her mind.

"Alice!" I called back, feeling my face break into delight. She swept down the stairs faster than I could blink and was suddenly in my arms, gently squeezing my neck. I hugged her back tightly.

"It's nice to meet you," I whispered.

"It's nice to know you," she whispered back.

"So what are your plans today?" she asked brightly and flitted back to Jasper's side, who had just made it to the bottom of the stairs. "Oh! This is Jasper."

"Hi, Jasper," I gave him a small wave as a noticeable wave of calm swept me.

"Well, I thought we'd start with a tour, and then see?" Emmett suggested.

"Sure," I agreed.

As Emmett started to lead the way into the garage Edward grabbed him and whispered quickly into his ear. Emmett asked a quick question, received a brief nod, and then ushered me through the doorway. Inside there were several vehicles. One was Edward's GTI, another was Alice's objectionably colored Porsche. Beside that was a black and blue motorcycle so lean it looked like it could cut through the atoms in air molecules. As we passed it I saw a tiny stamp on the side that read Ducati 1299.

The last vehicle was a sleek black sedan with windows tinted black, and modern looking fastback in place of a traditional trunk. I recognized it as an Audi RS7 from an episode of Top Gear.

Upstairs, because there were two levels to the garage as I suspected, contained a truly indulgent collection of vintage cars. An old Aston Martin was comfortably parked next to a newer version, while a late 60's Pontiac GTO was next to that. Emmett watched me marvel and answered my questions until I'd had the chance to lovingly pet each car, then showed me through a door that led onto a small landing.

A stairwell swept up to our left leading to the third level of the house. Before us was a long hallway with plush carpet, littered with doorways made from honey-colored wood that matched the stairwells on either side. Emmett placed a hand on the small of my back and guided me down the hallway.

"Alice's room… Jasper's… Edward's is this one…." He pointed and named off the rooms we passed. "And that's Carlisle's office," he indicated the only set of double doors past the very top of the second set of stairs that led down to the living room. I could see the piano shining in the sun that came from the bank of windows at the back of the room. I gazed down into the common living quarters, struck again by its immaculate beauty. I let my eyes rove around the delicate fixtures, the clean lines of white furniture, and the enormous piano.

"Not what you expected, is it?" he asked.

"No, but I'm not entirely sure I was expecting anything, really. It's just full of so much light, it's so open…"

"This is the one place in the world we can truly be ourselves without any fear."

I squeezed his hand and changed the subject. "What did Edward have to tell you?"

"There are some visitors coming," he said with an obviously affected nonchalance.

"Is that bad?"

"Not really," he said. "They're not like us with their hunting habits. But it doesn't look like they'll be going near Forks at all. Either way, I'm not letting you out of my sight until they're gone."

I shivered visibly.

"Finally an appropriate reaction," he congratulated me. "I was starting to think you had no self-preservation instincts at all."

"Don't be a dick," I rolled my eyes and turned back toward the end of the hallway we'd just come from. From this angle, I could properly see the opposite landing, with the honey wood staircase and matching door that led into the garage.

On the wall above the door hung a massive crucifix. It looked older than time, with a dark patina covering it that contrasted starkly with the light colored grain of the stairs.

"You can laugh," Emmett turned to follow my gaze and chuckled. "It _is_ sort of ironic."

"How old is it?" I asked and walked back down the hall to take a closer look.

"Uhh," Emmett blew a breath out through pursed lips as he calculated backward. "Early sixteen hundreds, I think. Sixteen-thirty, maybe?"

"Jesus fucking Christ," I said then tilted my head at the cross. "Oh, that was the point…"

Emmett' eyes crinkled at the corners. "Yes, exactly the point."

"Why do you keep it here?"

"Nostalgia, mostly," Emmett answered. "It belonged to Carlisle's father."

"You mean he carved it, not that he collected it, don't you."

"Yep, he was a preacher. This hung in the pulpit of his church."

I took a breath, not bothering to hide the awe I felt. If Carlisle's father had carved this with his own hands in 1630, it meant Carlisle himself was over 300 years old. There was no way for me to wrap my head around that sort of time frame. It was too large. Emmett himself was over a hundred years old, and when I thought of that my head spun.

"Are you okay?" he asked, gently.

"Carlisle is over 300 years old?" I asked.

"Yeah, Carlisle was born in London, in the sixteen-forties, he believes. Time wasn't marked as accurately then, for the common people anyway. It was just before Cromwell's rule, though."

"Wow," I muttered, feeling like I needed to sit down. Pure curiosity kept me in place. "Tell me more."

"Sure," he leaned against the railing of the staircase as he spoke. The posture indicated this would be a long story, so I settled in and gazed up at the cross, trying to absorb everything he was telling me.

"He was the only son of an Anglican pastor. His mother died giving birth to him, so he was raised by his father who was an intolerant asshole. As the Protestants came into power, his father was enthusiastic in his persecution of Roman Catholics and other religions. He also believed very strongly in the reality of evil, even led hunts for witches, werewolves… and, of course, vampires."

This story had only one obvious conclusion. I winced to show I already knew where it was going. Emmett nodded in confirmation.

"They burned a lot of innocent people along the way. As you know the real creatures that he hunted weren't so easy to catch.

"When the pastor grew old, he placed his obedient son in charge of the raids. At first, Carlisle was a disappointment; he wasn't quick to accuse or see demons where they didn't exist. But he was persistent and smarter than his father. He actually discovered a coven of true vampires that lived hidden in the sewers of the city, only coming out by night to hunt. In those days, when monsters like us weren't myths and legends, that's how they had to live.

"The people gathered their pitchforks and torches, of course- because what else does a mob bring, and waited where Carlisle had seen the monsters exit into the street. Eventually one emerged."

His voice got very quiet as he continued. This was going to be bad, I could tell. But I had to remind myself it wasn't the end of the story. Carlisle was sitting in the next room, a doctor with a family in a beautiful home.

"He must have been ancient, and weak with hunger. Carlisle heard him call out to the others when he caught the scent of the mob. He ran through the streets, and Carlisle—he was in his early thirties and very fast—was in the lead of the pursuit. The creature could have easily outrun them, but Carlisle thinks he was too hungry, so he turned and attacked. He fell on Carlisle first, but the others were close behind, and he turned to defend himself. He killed two men, and made off with a third, leaving Carlisle bleeding in the street."

Emmett paused, and I watched as he edited out some of the story before continuing. It probably had something to do with the wounds, they must have been terrible, and with my weak stomach I appreciated the edit.

"Carlisle knew what his father would do. The bodies would be burned—anything infected by the monster must be destroyed. Carlisle acted instinctively to save his own life. He crawled away from the alley while the mob followed the fiend and his victim. He hid in a cellar, buried under rotting potatoes for three days. It's a miracle he was able to keep silent, to stay undiscovered."

I filed that information away, three days and a struggle to be quiet. I wondered what that meant briefly, but didn't want it to show on my face, as Emmett was watching me intently.

"It was over then, and he realized what he had become." Emmett finished and pulled me into an embrace. "How are you feeling?"

"Weird," I said. "That's an intense origins story. What happened after that? How did he get from rotten potatoes to Forks?"

"I can show you, actually." He released me only to take my hand and pulled me back the way we'd come.


	16. Ancient History

**Music Note:** Love is here to Stay by Billie Holiday

**16\. ANCIENT HISTORY**

At Carlisle's office he paused expectantly until a soft voice called from within.

"Come in," Carlisle said in just loud enough a volume to be heard without shouting.

Emmett opened the door to reveal a high ceilinged two-story study bathed in natural light from west facing windows. To the left was a narrow staircase that led to a veritable library. Rows upon rows of towering bookcases lined the walls of the second floor stuffed with more books than I'd ever seen outside a public space. The bottom floor housed it's own set of bookcases ringing the walls and jutting out at intervals to create reading alcoves and workstations. It reminded me of the way I imagined Indiana Jones office would realistically look, only neater and more organized.

Immediately in front of the door was a large mahogany desk, behind which Carlisle sat studying paperwork in a leather chair. Behind him stood several pieces of office equipment that gave a touch of modernity to an otherwise timeless room.

"What can I do for you?" he asked pleasantly, putting the papers down and rising from his seat.

"La is curious about our history," Emmett responded. "Well, your history, really."

"We didn't mean to disturb you," I apologized. It looked as though he'd been concentrating on some fairly important business, but the impression could have come from the stateliness of the room.

"Not at all," he waved my apology off casually. "Where were you going to start?"

"The Waggoner," Emmett smiled, and turned me toward the wall behind us. Instead of the bookcases that covered the rest of the walls, this one housed a mishmash collection of paintings and photographs. Emmett dragged me to the far left where a small sepia toned oil painting hung. This painting did not stand out in the sea of brightly colored, beautifully framed artistry on the rest of the wall. It depicted a wide river with a huge bridge connecting the banks. The steeples of many churches overtook the skyline, jutting out from the mess of buildings like spears stabbing up toward the sky.

It was really rather forbidding, especially after the story I'd just been told. I squinted closer toward the painting and realized the word "Thames" had been painted lightly into the river underneath a spattering of boats.

"London?" I asked. I stepped back to better take the whole thing in. This looked nothing like the London I knew, not even from old paintings and maps I'd seen in museums.

"The London of my youth," Carlisle agreed. "Before the fire in 1666."

"Will you tell the story?" Emmett asked. I turned to pay adequate attention to Carlisle's story, but he only shook his head mildly and smiled in apology.

"I'd love to," he replied. "But I'm actually running a bit late, I've been called into the hospital. It seems Dr. Snow is taking a sick day. Besides, you know the stories well enough." He grinned at Emmett and gave him a pat on the back.

It was a weird conversation to process. Blending the doctor's life at the hospital, and the rather ordinary burden of being called into work with a tale of his early adulthood in the 17th century.

Carlisle gave me another warm smile and walked silently away. I turned back to the little oil painting. It was easy to imagine, while looking at all those steeples, a mob of people desperately chasing down monsters of legend. The whole thing felt ominous.

"So what happened once he realized what he was?" I asked, turning back to Emmett who was watching me with a small smile. He switched his gaze to a landscape of dull fall colors. Essentially empty of life with one shaggy peak in the distance.

"When he knew what he'd become he rebelled. He grew up to know that the type of monster he'd become was inherently evil. He tried to kill himself, but it's not easy for us."

I felt a vivid stab of pain for Carlisle. "How?"

"Sort of everything," he said regretfully. "We don't die easily. He jumped from cliffs, drowned himself in the ocean… Even starvation, though it's a miracle he was able to resist feeding. Generally the first and most powerful urge for our kind is to feed, it's nearly impossible to resist. But he was so disgusted with himself that he somehow found the strength to attempt starving."

"Is that possible?" I asked, sickened.

"No, there are only a handful of ways we can be killed. Well, one way, really. Regardless, he grew weaker and weaker and felt his willpower draining away so he ran as far as he could from any human habitation. He wondered alone by night, seeking out the loneliest of places.

"One night a herd of deer passed his hiding place and, driven by instinct and dire thirst, he attacked. He was drinking before he realized what was happening. Our early instinct to feed is far more powerful than thoughts, or self loathing. When his strength returned as he drank he realized it was possible to exist without being a monster. In a way he was born for the third time.

"With a new purpose he was able to make better use of his time. He had always been intelligent and eager to learn, but now he also had unlimited time. So he studied at night, and planned all day. Eventually he swam to France…." He paused.

"And…?"

"You have nothing to say about swimming to France?"

"Congratulations?" I asked. Emmett laughed. "People swim the Channel all the time Emmett, and considering you don't seem to need to breathe like humans, I imagine it came easily."

"You noticed?"

"Yeah, you hold your breath a lot."

Emmett shook his head in amazement. "I keep thinking one of these stories is going to send you running, screaming away from me, but it never does. How has nothing I've told you scared you yet?"

"Plenty of what you tell me scares me, but that doesn't mean I'm going anywhere."

"We'll see, I guess," he muttered doubtfully.

"Yep." I reached up on my toes to kiss him. "So Carlisle swam to France, and then…."

Emmett's eyes flicked to the largest and most colorful painting on the wall. It had a massive guilt frame that was wider than the door next to which it hung. It depicted four angelic figures wreathed in flowing fabric, standing on a balcony with carved pillars. Their flowing robes swirled around the pillars and fell over the sides of the balcony to dance among clouds littered into a perfectly blue sky. I couldn't tell if the figures were meant to be angelic, or biblical, or simple awed fancy.

"Carlisle swam to France, and continued on through Europe, to the universities there. By night he studied music, science, medicine—and found his calling, his penance there, in saving human lives.

"I can't imagine what that was like for him. He says it took him two centuries to perfect his self-control, but now he's all but immune to the scent of human blood. It is really incredible.

"Eventually his studies took him to Italy where he discovered others. They were a coven of civilized, educated people completely unlike the wraiths in the London sewers."

He touched the gold frame of the largest painting and pointed to the golden haired figure at the back. With a start I recognized Carlisle. This was another instance that drove home how truly old Carlisle was. This painting looked like it was done by one of the renaissance masters.

"Solimena was greatly inspired by the coven Carlisle had found in Italy. He often painted them as gods," Emmett shook his head. "Aro, Marcus, and Caius," he pointed to each one as he said their names, two black haired males, and one snowy white. "Night time patron of the arts," he muttered.

"What happened to them?" I wondered.

"They're still there." He crossed his arms and gazed up at the painting. "As they have been for who knows how many millennia. Carlisle stayed with them only for a comparatively short time, just a few decades. He admired their civility, their refinement, but they persisted in trying to cure his aversion to 'his natural food source.' They tried to persuade him, and he tried to persuade them, obviously to no avail. At that point, Carlisle decided to try the New World. He dreamed of finding others like himself. As I said before I think he was very lonely.

"He didn't find anyone for a long time. But, as monsters became the stuff of fairy tales, he found he could interact with humans as if he were one of them. He began practicing medicine. But he still couldn't find the companionship he needed because he couldn't risk familiarity. It's hard when people start noticing you don't age.

"When the influenza epidemic hit, he was working nights in a hospital in Chicago. This was 1916. He'd been turning over an idea in his mind for several years, and he had almost decided to act—since he couldn't find a companion, he would create one.

"The problem was, he wasn't completely sure how his own transformation had worked, so he was hesitant. Worse, he didn't want to steal anyone's life the way he felt his had been stolen. It was in that frame of mind that he found Edward. There was no hope for him; he was left in a ward with everyone else dying from the Spanish flu. Edward's parents had already passed so he decided to give it a shot, and it worked." As he finished he walked over to the door and held it open for me.

"Then he found Esme, and then you." I added. I followed him out the door, and back down the hall toward the staircase underneath Carlisle's cross.

"And we've come full circle," he agreed.

"Have all of you always stuck to this strict diet?" I asked as we mounted the stairs.

"Esme has. I think her compassion makes it as difficult for her to view humans as food as it was for Carlisle. Edward had a pretty typical bout of teenage rebellion right after I was found, and I joined him for a while during the 50's and 60's. Edward had this idea that since he could read minds he could pass over the innocent and only prey on the evil and twisted. I followed his lead because we both thought we were cheating the system, that we could escape a bloody conscience since we had this back door into the mind of evil. We were telling ourselves we were doing the world a favor by clearing out the rapists and pedophiles."

I gave a noncommittal sort of noise and continued the climb up the stairs. It seemed sort of reasonable to feel a little rebellious after waking up in an entirely different type of existence. It was natural that a person would wish to explore their abilities away from the ironclad rules of Carlisle's abstinence. Besides, I tended to agree with Edward's logic.

"That _still_ doesn't freak you out?" he asked as we reached the top of the staircase.

"No." I peered around the landing. It had the same lush carpeting as the hall below. The walls held a collection of family portraits, and shots of the grounds outside.

"I just told you I spent some time as what can ostensibly be referred to as a serial killer and you're cool with that?"

"You're not a serial killer," I cut in immediately. He responded with a look of profound skepticism. "I'm serious," I stopped midway down the hallway to impress my sincerity upon him. "I mean, if you were human I _would_ probably run screaming, but you're not so it's not the same thing."

His brow drew down severely, but he paused with his mouth open, caught on a rebuttal. "Okay, I can accept that I guess…."

We walked leisurely down the rest of the hall as he continued his story.

"As Edward and I continued on into the 70's we started feeling like the same kind of monsters we were killing. Justification doesn't negate hypocritical behavior, right? It felt dirty. So we came back to Carlisle and Esme who welcomed us with open arms."

We paused outside the last door in the hallway. Something about the way he'd described his years away from the family was bugging me. If he and Edward hadn't quit, if they or someone like them had moved south…. Suffice it to say, my life could potentially have turned out a lot differently.

"You probably saved the lives of a _lot_ of women, of countless children," I said. "That doesn't make you a monstrosity, that makes you someone's hero."

He gave me a sharp look, but covered it with a small word of thanks.

"My room," he motioned to the door and opened it. The room faced west with an entire wall of window panes. I realized the whole back of the house must be glass, and had a brief bewildering thought about Emmett's story, hypocritical behavior, and throwing stones from glass houses.

The view from the wall of windows looked down onto the Sol Duc River and out across a wide untouched expanse of the Olympic Mountain range. There were several shelving units along the walls in this room that matched the ones from Carlisle's study; only in Emmett's room the ones running along the south wall were wide and deep enough to house his vinyl collection. The shelves that blanketed the north and east walls were full of an assortment of things ranging from books to kitsch, and a fairly comprehensive collection of comic books.

Also along the east wall was a large classically restored record player from the 70's. It was the big boxy furniture type that had built in speakers on either side of the record dock. More speakers hung at intervals around the room with some sound dampening cloth between them and on the ceiling.

There was no bed, but there was an inviting reading couch placed against the windows with a small table and book stand next to it. A rich, thick dusty green rug covered the floor. The rug looked thick enough to sit on comfortably. I kicked my shoes off so I could feel the texture between my toes the way one might do at the beach to feel the sun-warmed sand.

I peered around the room cautiously. The severity of our previous conversation was immediately lost as I attempted to glean tidbits of Emmett's personality from the things he collected. Shadow boxes containing what appeared to be old comics were separating his book collection into varied parts. Curiosity brought me over to the nearest one for inspection.

"Is that a Superman number one?" Astonishment flooded me. I'd read about some of the most highly prized comics in the world, but I never thought to be looking at a first edition copy sitting on someone's bookshelf in Forks, Washington.

"Yep," he tossed over his shoulder as he chose a record and turned the player on. I heard a soft hiss followed by the dulcet tones of Billie Holiday.

"And that's a Batman number one, isn't it?"

"Uh huh," Emmett was watching me with an indulgent smile as I sorted through his comics. He had many of the most valuable comics in the world sitting on the same shelf.

"How did you find these?" I asked, but thought I might already know the answer.

"I bought them." He crossed his arms and leaned against the wood-paneled side of the record player.

"Aren't those worth hundreds of thousands of dollars?"

"They weren't when I bought them." A sly expression spread on his face. He was playing coy.

"When you bought them in 1940, you mean?"

He didn't bother answering this last question, but his silence spoke volumes.

"Right," I said at a loss. "Of course you did."

He studied me more closely as I silently perused his collection, smile fading into a look of distant disquiet.

"What?" I stopped my inspection to focus on him.

"Nothing," he shook himself as if to dispel an evil thought.

"You're still waiting for me to run screaming, aren't you?" I asked archly. He nodded, but his smile returned.

"Nah, I've dealt with scarier," I gave him a meager attempt at the casual wave Carlisle had given me earlier.

"Doubtful," his lip lifted in snarl as he shifted into a crouch. I braced myself and flipped him off, ready for the leap he made next.

As ready as I was, I still didn't see him move before he tackled me and we were both airborne. The sound the couch made as we crashed into it, and further into the window, was momentous. For a moment I worried we would fall through the glass before I realized it was probably bullet proof.

"Ass!" I yelled and tried to right myself, but Emmett only adjusted me into his lap without letting me up.

"Still not scared?" he asked in disappointment.

"Never," I sniped back, but nestled my head into his shoulder, suffused with happiness. "Why comics?" I asked after a moment.

"They're sort of the hopeful version of the life we've all found ourselves in," he said. "Superman, obviously with his super strength, of course. But Batman, too. He resonates because he's just a normal guy with a fuck ton of money and a lot of demons. He just wants to be good, so he fights every day to be a better person, and make other people's lives easier. Is it silly to say I want to be like that?"

"No," I whispered, thinking of the car accident. "I don't think so."

A light knock sounded on the door followed by a soft voice requesting permission to enter.

Emmett didn't respond but Alice came in anyway, with Jasper on her heels. Feeling like our embrace was a little personal, I slid off Emmett's lap and curled my feet underneath me on the couch next to him instead.

Alice danced into the room with fluid movements and sank into the carpet. She was so painfully tiny and graceful I couldn't help but wonder what it would look like if she actually danced. The beauty of it would likely bring me to tears.

"It sounded like you were having La for lunch so I thought we should come see if you would share," she tinkled.

"No, you wouldn't want any of this. I'm sure I would taste gamey and weird."

"Sorry, I don't have any to spare, anyway. I don't share well," Emmett added with a grin.

Her laughter sounded like a thousand little bells dinging in a soft breeze.

"Actually," Jasper said, with an answering smile as he took a few steps into the room. "Alice says there will be a thunderstorm tonight. We were thinking about grabbing a game. You in?"

"A game?" I asked blankly, unsure what they could be referring to but gathering that Alice was more reliable than any local weatherman.

"Hell yes!" Emmett crowed immediately, then looked at me doubtfully.

"No worries," Alice chirped. "She's coming with us."

"Am I?" I ventured. It sounded like something I had little to no interest in considering the small facts I was aware of; storm, game, outside. No thanks. Except Emmett looked so excited, and Alice's smile was so bright and welcoming, and even Jasper was waiting on an affirmation.

"Do you want to?" Emmett asked, looking down at me with more lively excitement than I'd ever seen from him.

"Sure?" I finally acquiesced not wanting to be the source of Emmett's possible disappointment. "Where are we going?"

"Baseball," Jasper informed me. "We have to wait for a real thunderstorm to play."

I nodded to show I understood even though I was completely bewildered. "Makes sense?" I hazarded.

This got another tinkling laugh from Alice. "You'll see why."

She stood like moving liquid then grabbed Jasper by the hand. "Let's go see if Carlisle will come!"

"As if you don't know," Jasper teased and followed her out the door, somehow managing to close it inconspicuously behind him.

"Vampires like baseball?" I asked Emmett with the round eyes and tilted head of pseudo confusion.

"Everyone likes baseball," he tugged on the tendrils hanging from my sloppy bun.

"'Cause of the no crying thing?"

"Obviously."


	17. Date

**Music Note:** Victory Lap, by The Reverend Horton Heat

**17\. DATE**

As we collected ourselves to leave, my phone dinged with a message.

~Hey, I've got something for you. You in? Dinner on me.~

I frowned at the phone in my hand. This was an inconvenience. If Kevin was looking to spend some time with me it felt wrong to cancel, but I wasn't interested in cancelling on Emmett either.

~What's up? I'm heading home now, but I'm going out later.~

His response was quick enough that I knew he must have been watching his phone.

~I'll be quick! 5:30 or 6 OK?~

"What's making you frown like that?" Emmett asked as we settled into the Abarth; more appropriately, I took a seat in the Abarth, and Emmett folded himself into the tiny space in front of the steering wheel.

"Kevin wants to come over tonight, and he's not giving me any real choice. Says he has something for me. But he'll be there early enough that it shouldn't interfere with vampire baseball," I told him and tapped back a quick reply.

"Oh," Emmett did a remarkable job of keeping his voice steady. "So I get to meet him?"

"Ugh," I breathed.

Clouds were starting to gather with the threat of rain when the Abarth rumbled up the road toward my house. An unfamiliar black truck was parked just past the driveway right in front my mailbox. Two figures were hunched underneath my awning, apparently waiting for my arrival.

"What the fuck," Emmett muttered. He pulled to a stop at the bottom of my drive and pulled the e-brake, clearly intending to go no farther.

"Is that Billy and Jacob?" I asked in confusion. Billy's face was one of impassive peace; the kind of expression that was used to mask tumultuous feelings. Jacob looked a little frightened and very guilty as he watched the two of us in the car. "What are they doing here?"

"I can guess." Emmett's voice was full of fury. "And it's crossing the fucking line."

"They came to warn me off." I concluded. Fury pressed into my temples as I peered up the drive toward the men. "That is very much not okay. Let me deal with this."

Emmett's fists clenched around the steering wheel so tightly it groaned. "That's probably for the best."

"Do you want to take the Abarth back?" I offered feeling anxious that his black glare foretold a serious confrontation.

"No, it's faster for me to run. Get them inside so I can leave, please."

"You don't have to leave," I offered, thinking he could come in through the back and wait upstairs, but hating the necessity of skulking around.

"Of course I do. You've got to get ready for _vampire baseball_ and better yet, prepare your favorite uncle to meet your new boyfriend." He chuckled, his black mood diminishing with the thought of how uncomfortable I was about to be.

"Great…" I mumbled. My thoughts stuck on how I would accomplish breaking the news to Kevin so soon after assuring him I wasn't interested in anyone at all. Emmett's eyes flicked toward the porch before he leaned in for a quick kiss. My heart skipped a brief beat as I, too, glanced toward the two men. Billy was no longer impassive. His hands gripped the armrests of his chair, his eyes wide with what could have been either anger or fright.

"I'll see you soon, babe." It was the first time he had used an endearment and it made my heart sing in happiness. Emmett grinned then opened the door by reaching across me to pull the handle.

"I'll let you know how it goes," I said, then ducked out of the car and jogged up the drive as rain started to sprinkle down.

"Hey, y'all!" I called and gave Jacob a quick one-armed squeeze. "I hope you haven't been waiting long." I opened the door and ushered them quickly inside. As the door shut I heard Emmett gun the engine of my car to pull it up the drive.

"Not long," Billy said. "I just wanted to bring this up." He motioned to a nondescript brown paper sack in his lap.

"Thanks," I said and took it from him. "Can I get y'all some tea?"

"You'll want to put that in the fridge so it doesn't dry out. It's Harry Clearwater's fish fry. I know Kevin is out fishing today, and it's his favorite."

"Oh." That must be what Kevin was bringing over. I'd probably need to clear some space in my freezer.

"He said he was going to be bringing some of his catch up," Billy said, confirming my guess and looked around as though expecting Kevin to pop up out of nowhere. "I thought he'd be here by now."

"We made plans for later," I told him, keeping it purposefully ambiguous.

Billy watched my face thoughtfully. "I see," he said finally. "Jake," he switched gears. "I think I saw that box of pictures Rebecca sent us in the car. Will you grab it?"

"Where is it?" Jacob looked truly morose with eyes trained on the floor, brow knitting together. Clearly, whatever his father was planning was something Jacob did not approve of. I felt a wealth of pity for him, and flash of anger at his father for putting Jacob through this.

"I think I saw it in the lock box, you'll probably have to dig for it."

Jacob was not a stupid person. He looked at his watch and slunk out the door. I doubted very sincerely that he would be looking for anything while he was outside. The two of us watched him leave until the door was shut completely then turned to stare at each other in silence. I was angry enough that I knew it must be showing, but I decided to begin by giving Billy the benefit of the doubt. The seconds ticked by as I waited for him to speak, not bothered when it became awkward.

Finally, I turned toward the kitchen to brew a pot of tea and put the fish fry away. Billy's wet tires squeaked across the hardwoods as he followed behind me. Once the kettle was heating, I spun on the spot to confront him. He looked at me steadily, heavily lined face unreadable.

"Kevin isn't getting here for quite a while," I told him, attempting to keep my impatience from sounding rude. At this stage, he could easily still be here for any reason in the world. _Do not go in angry,_ I reminded myself.

Billy nodded to show he understood what I was getting at but continued to quietly regard me with no further progression in conversation.

"Thanks for the fish fry," I tried again.

When he still didn't answer it became extremely difficult to continue being polite. I kicked my foot out, crossed my arms, and sighed heavily. At this point, it was clear this wasn't a social call. "What can I do for you, Billy?"

"La," he began after another long moment. "Kevin is one of my best friends."

"I'm aware."

His mouth grew thin at my impatient response. When he continued each word was spoken very carefully. "I noticed you've been spending a lot of time with the Cullens."

"Yes."

"It may be none of my business…"

"Correct." I interrupted him.

He leaned away, taken aback by my anger. "I just don't think it's such a great idea."

"Noted," I answered. "But as it's none of your business, I'm not sure why we're having this conversation."

The kettle gave a merry chirp behind me. I turned my back on him to set about making two cups of mint tea. When I was finished I handed one to Billy and took a sip of my own. It was too hot and under steeped.

"You may not know this but the Cullen family has an unpleasant reputation on the reservation." He wasn't going to give up, I realized.

"I _did_ know that," I informed him without even a meager attempt at disguising my anger. "But as the Cullens aren't allowed on the reservation that reputation couldn't be deserved, could it?"

This reminder of the treaty startled him. I could see his mind racing, trying to determine how much of the truth I knew, and what could be safe to say next.

"That's true," he finally acceded. "You seem better informed than I expected."

"I am," I decided that beating around the bush would not serve either of us. "I may be better informed than you are right now."

"Unlikely," he stated flatly. "But possible. Is Kevin as well informed?"

"Of course not," I said, softening. "What good would that do?"

"I don't like it but I think I have to agree." He looked down at his tea for a moment, expression unhappy and conflicted. "Just think about what you're doing La. This could really hurt him."

"I know," I answered softly. "But it's my choice."

"Don't do this," he pleaded. I didn't know what to say, so we sat gazing at each other in mutual unhappiness until the front door banged loudly open.

"There's no box of pictures anywhere in that truck," Jake announced and stomped through to the kitchen. His hair was glossy and dry, and there were only a few droplets of water on his broad shoulders. Clearly, he'd timed his re-entry rather than look for a phantom box of photos.

"Strange," Billy said. "I could have sworn I put them in there."

Jacob clenched his jaw minutely but rolled his eyes with obvious dramaticism. "Great."

"Well, tell Kevin we're sorry we missed him," Billy said.

"You got it," I took Billy's untouched mug of tea and placed it in the sink.

"What?" Jacob asked. "We're leaving already?"

"Yep," Billy rolled himself toward the door. "Kevin isn't going to get here for a while and I want to be home before the game."

"Okay?" Jacob's confusion was palpable, as was his disappointment. "I guess I'll see you later, La." He gave me another quick hug, then helped his father through the door.

"Yeah," I answered and watched them move carefully down the drive. I shut the door as they began to load into the truck and stood listening until I heard their tires pull away from the curb and down the road.

Once they were gone one huge breath left me and I crumpled to the floor feeling completely overwhelmed. Between Carlisle's origins story this morning, the prospect of introducing Emmett to Kevin- and the subsequent phone call from my mother that would result, as well as being accosted by Billy, a person that is all but a stranger… I needed a nap.

Upstairs I carefully unrolled my hair, set my alarm for an hour, and was asleep when my head hit the pillow. I awoke feeling refreshed and confident. After a quick shower to wash the vestiges of sleep away I pulled on some old jeans, a pair of Doc Martens, and a simple t-shirt. I'd be in my raincoat all night, anyway. No reason to dress up.

In the kitchen, I poured myself a whisky and started prepping veggies to go with the fish I knew we were bound to be eating. By the time Kevin arrived, I was able to behave naturally, casually mention he'd missed Billy when he'd dropped off the fish fry, and drop a hint that I'd be having a date.

"Really?" he asked, all interest. "With who? Anyone I know?"

"Maybe," I said through a mouthful of fried fish. "Emmett Cullen?"

"Oh," he said. I could see the shock on his face and I was impressed when he maneuvered around it. "I've met Dr. Cullen a few times. Nice guy."

"So is his son," I offered. "In fact, he'll be here soon to pick me up."

"Should I clear out?" he offered gallantly.

"No, stay and meet him. How else could you give mom all the dirt?"

He laughed. "True enough. I thought you said you weren't interested in anyone."

"I said I'd tell you when there was something to tell." I corrected him and stood to wash my plate.

"I guess that's true. How did you meet him?"

"He's in my lab. We share a desk so he's sort of my lab partner by default."

"That's nice." I could tell he was burning to ask more personal questions but Kevin had always been my favorite uncle because he had an uncanny ability to be able to tell when I wanted to be left alone. "When is he picking you up?"

"Now-ish, I think." I checked the time on my phone and saw a horde of missed messages from Jess, as well as a phone call. "Great," I muttered and typed back a series of nondescript answers and congratulations to her wonderful time with Mike at the club.

Life at school felt like it had been a million years ago, and I'd forgotten entirely about the night out. But I knew I needed to keep my school friends happy or they'd start worrying about me.

"Where's he taking you?" he asked and stood to wash his own plate.

"A baseball game with his family," I said.

"You like baseball?" his face puckered into a look of disbelief.

"No, I'll probably just watch." I rolled my eyes for his benefit then jumped when I heard the rumble of a large engine pull up. "That's probably him."

I made my way to the door as the bell rang. It was absolutely pouring outside. Sheets of water spilled off the roof and dashed around the covered area in front of my door. Emmett was standing in a halo of light wearing a long raincoat with a large umbrella in his hand. I motioned him inside and shut the door behind him.

Kevin had finished cleaning up when he entered the kitchen. He was leaning against the sink drying his hands on a dishtowel. He set it down and offered a hand to my date.

"Kevin Ateara," he said. "You must be Emmett."

"Nice to meet you Mr. Ateara," Emmett said politely.

"Call me Kevin." He took a seat at the kitchen table as I pulled a beer out of the fridge for him. "I hear you're taking our girl out to play baseball?" No mention of the current downpour that would inhibit outdoor activities anywhere else in the world.

"That's the plan," Emmett grinned.

"How did you manage that?" Kevin asked and accepted the beer.

Emmett just laughed along with Kevin instead of answering until I cleared my throat reproachfully.

"Ready to go?"

"Sure," Emmett said and followed me to the coat rack by the door where he helped me pull on my rain jacket.

"Hey," Kevin said more seriously. "Take care of her, all right?"

"She'll be safe with me," Emmett said earnestly. "I promise."

One couldn't doubt Emmett's sincerity. Something about the affected brevity of the moment made me flush with embarrassment. Men were absolutely stupid when they were being macho. I flung the door open and stalked out to the mild chuckles of the men behind me.

Once I made it through the sheet of water I stopped dead. Instead of Edward's Volkswagen a gigantic four-door Jeep Wrangler with off-roading tires, metal roll cage, and safari spotlights was parked in my driveway completely dwarfing my Fiat. The tires were taller than my waist. The shiny black roll bar was high enough that I would most certainly struggle climbing over it, and rest of the Jeep was a pretty, deep cherry red that was nearly at odds with the monstrous aesthetic of the thing.

"This is what you meant about the practicality of the Porsche, wasn't it?" I asked Emmett.

"Yup," he said happily. A whistle sounded from behind us, and I turned to see Kevin checking the behemoth out, impressed.

"Wear your seatbelts!" he laughed.

At the passenger side, I gauged the distance from the ground to the seat and let out a sigh. "You _would_ have a Jeep built for a giant, wouldn't you?"

He chuckled in answer and lifted me up until I could easily climb into the seat. Instead of a normal seatbelt, there was a complicated harness contraption. I managed to get my shoulders into it, but couldn't figure out how to close it appropriately and had to wait for Emmett to circle around to the driver's side at a normal human's pace to help me.

"Where do you even keep this thing?" I asked him. "It wasn't in the garage when we went through this morning."

"We converted one of the outbuildings into a garage," he answered as he deftly snapped closed the buckles on the harness. "The ones in the garage you saw are our daily drivers."

"You drive an old Aston daily?"

"Esme does. It's her favorite."

"I bet," I shook my head. "You people are unbelievable."

"Do you mean rich people or vampires?"

"Rich people, obviously. The vampire part goes without saying."

Emmett carefully backed out of the driveway for Kevin's benefit, then put the Jeep in gear and set off down the street. Once we were out of sight he leaned back over, kissed me, and groaned.

"You smell so good in the rain," he explained.

"Is that good or bad," I couldn't tell.

"Both."

The rain hammered against the roof of the truck in a sheeting downpour so thick that visibility was nearly nonexistent. I couldn't be sure how he found his way through the storm, but eventually, we turned onto a mountain road rutted and full of potholes from the consistent onslaught of water. We jostled our way up the track, the Jeep more than up to the task of navigating the harsh road. The harness' usefulness was made apparent during one particularly drastic dip that tipped us nearly vertical on the way in. Without the harness, I was sure I would have fallen right into the windshield. Emmett seemed to genuinely enjoy the ride, though. He hooted and whooped with joy as he gunned through deep mud puddles.

When we came to the end of the road, there was a small cul-de-sac where Emmett was able to turn the Jeep around and face out. A wall of trees pressed in on all sides, and I couldn't be sure why the road was there in the first place. There didn't seem to be any trailhead that would warrant a car trip out here. I imagined it must be a maintenance road, though what was out this far that needed to be maintained I couldn't guess.

The rain had slowed to a light drizzle, but the clouds above roiled and moved angrily.

"We go on foot from here," Emmett announced and bounced out of the truck. He came around to assist me with my harness then pulled me into an embrace. I wrapped my arms around his neck, preparing myself for the wild run ahead.

Emmett kicked the door shut, then bent to put his nose in the crook of my neck. The bridge of his nose drifted gently along my jaw and up until his lips were touching the corner of my mouth.

"Are you ready?" he whispered, lips moving like butterfly kisses against mine.

"Yes," I breathed. His closeness was doing weird things to my hormone levels. "Or we could stay here and find something else to do." I licked his upper lip and kissed him in earnest, drawing his face close to mine, tangling my fingers in his hair. For a moment, I refused to let him go, wanting to keep his scent in my nose and the taste of him on my lips.

He set me down gently and backed away slowly, hands up defensively as if I was a wild beast prone to attack. "You are going to be the death of me."

"Not unless death by female is the one way you can die." I was bent over, bracing my hands on my knees as I took deep breaths trying to slow my heartbeat. Emmett laughed and came over to pick me up again once my breathing had slowed.

We were off in a flash. I closed my eyes this time, the quick movement of the trees making me feel mildly ill. Once they were closed I couldn't tell for sure that we were moving, his gait was so smooth. After what felt both like a long while, and no time at all I felt Emmett kiss my head.

"We're here," he said. I opened my eyes to find we were still standing in the middle of the forest.

"Are we?" I asked, looking around blankly.

"The clearing is through there." He pointed and took my hand to lead the way. "I figured you'd want to enter on your feet."

"You were right," I said thankfully.

We walked a few more feet through wet ferns and draping moss hanging between firs like sodden spider webs until the meadow opened up before us. It was an enormous field settled into a shallow valley somewhere deep into the Olympic Mountains. It could have easily contained two professional sized baseball fields, but I could see the others scattered around, and deduced they would be using the whole space as one.

Carlisle was too far away to be marking bases, and yet that is exactly what he appeared to be doing. Jasper and Alice were making the quick motions of throwing a ball back and forth, though I never actually saw the ball. Esme and Edward were sitting on an outcropping of rock about twenty feet away from the point at which we entered. They both stood as we approached.

"I thought we heard you arrive," Esme said with a warm smile. "How was the drive?"

"Intense," I grimaced. "But fun."

"Were you showing off?" Esme scolded, turning a disapproving gaze on Emmett.

Emmett grinned sheepishly. Alice left Jasper at the far edge of the field and hurtled toward us looking like the most graceful of gazelles. When she came to a stop in our loose semi-circle I could see her eyes were a bit far away.

"It's time." As she spoke a rumble of thunder rolled toward us, shaking the trees around us and crashing to a finish.

"Eerie, isn't it?" Edward gave me a crooked smile.

"Indeed."

"Let's go!" she squealed and took Edward's hand. They raced across the field to their places. Edward's run was nearly as graceful as Alice's but his strides were quicker, and more powerful, like a hunting lion.

"Ready?" Emmett asked with eager anticipation.

"You know it," I said enthused by his excitement. "Go team!"

He snickered and after offering me a quick kiss on the forehead, bounded off after the other two. Emmett was a terrifying beast in motion. He looked rather like a hulking bear intent on defending its den. Seeing him in motion made me wonder how much a person's human experience affected the transition. I wondered idly what that would mean for me, then remembered Emmett and I were no closer to figuring out what our plan for the future would be.

"Shall we go down, dear?" Esme asked in a soft melodic voice. My drifting thoughts had left me watching the family vacantly as they powered across the field. Their movements were effortless with an abundance of strength and grace. As we walked, Esme evened her stride to match mine while keeping a few feet distance between us. I assumed she was still attempting to keep from frightening me, though I wasn't sure why she would think I was afraid after seeing me cuddle Emmett.

"You don't play?" I asked to help make a meager attempt at conversation.

"Oh no," she answered calmly. "Someone has to keep them honest."

"They cheat?" They all seemed too good or pure to be cheaters, but I supposed it would be like any other family game- entirely cutthroat.

"Oh yes!" she laughed. "You should hear some of the arguments they get into, they're all so competitive… actually, I hope you don't hear those arguments. You'll think they were raised by a pack of wolves."

"You sound like my mom," I laughed with her. "My sister and I used to fight like wild cats, and my mom would shame us by saying something like that."

"Well, I think of them as my children. Did Emmett tell you I lost a child?"

"No," I hoped my voice sounded like the sadness I intended, not pitying.

"Yes, my first and only baby died just a few days after he was born, poor little thing." She sighed, and I couldn't tell if it was sadness or wistfulness. "It broke my heart, that's why I jumped off the cliff, you know."

"I didn't know," I said, taken aback. "That's when Carlisle found you?"

"Yes," she smiled. "Aw, Emmett is such a sweet soul. He reminded me so much of the baby I lost all those years ago. With that dimple and that hair… I couldn't…" she took a breath before continuing. "That's why I'm so happy he found you, darling. I worry those boys are too isolated… but apparently not."

"So you're not worried that I'm…" I didn't know how to articulate what I was feeling. Worried that I'm what? Fragile, short-lived… _human_?

"Of course I do," she said simply. She shook her head and shifted her shoulders as though she was stretching. "But I know it will work out somehow."

I wanted to ask her why we couldn't just change me right then, why we had to go through all of this, why Emmett had to torture himself with a person that physically hurt him to be close to. For me the answer was easy, but I could see the unease in Esme's eyes, and I knew the answer that was easy for me was fraught with complication for them. A part of me knew it was ridiculous to pledge an eternity to someone I'd been dating for less than a month, and with any seriousness for less than a week, but the larger part of me was hyper-aware that our mutual feelings would remain unchanged no matter the time that passed. I'd never been so sure of anyone in my life.

Esme's discomfort with the turn of our conversation made it clear she was just as worried about my future with Emmett as I was. It was possible Emmett would hurt himself before he came to terms with what our relationship would mean for my mortal life.

When we reached the edge of the diamond we could see they had formed teams. Alice was the neutral pitcher, Esme explained, so her foresight couldn't be used as an advantage. Edward was far out on leftfield, Carlisle stood between two bases, and Jasper was waiting for his turn up to bat. Esme took her place as catcher. No one was wearing gloves.

Emmett was swinging an aluminum bat, making it whistle through the air. For a brief moment I wondered when he would approach home, but I belatedly observed he was already there, much further away from the pitching mound than I thought possible.

"Batter up," Esme called.

Alice was a sneaky sort of pitcher. She held the ball loosely with a relaxed posture, then threw it with a motion so quick I didn't see the ball until it smacked into Esme's ready hand.

"Was that a strike?" I asked Esme.

"If they don't hit it, it's a strike," she told me.

Esme hurled the ball back to Alice, who permitted herself an evil grin before her hand spun out again.

This time Emmett managed to bring the bat around in time to smash into the invisible ball. The crack of impact was thunderous. The sound of it reverberated off the mountains surrounding us, echoing like a long roll of thunder from the storm. The necessity of a thunderstorm became immediately apparent, though I couldn't figure out how the ball stayed in one piece after a hit like that. Shouldn't it have exploded to tiny bits of dust?

I watched as the ball shot like a meteor over the field, flying deep into the surrounding forest.

"Home run," I murmured.

"Wait," Esme cautioned, listening intently, one hand raised. Emmett was a blur around the bases, Carlisle shadowing him. Edward was missing.

"Out!" Esme cried in a clear voice. I stared in disbelief as Edward sprang from the fringe of the trees, ball in his upraised hand. He made a quick celebratory dance before shooting back towards the bases and throwing the ball to Alice.

"Emmett hits the hardest," Esme explained, "but Edward runs the fastest."

The inning continued so quickly I could barely keep up. It was impossible to follow the speed of the ball as it rocketed back and forth across the field. The rate at which their bodies flew around the bases made them look like monochromatic blurs to my eyes.

The other reason they waited for a thunderstorm to play became apparent when Jasper, trying to avoid Edward's infallible fielding, hit a ground ball toward Carlisle. Carlisle ran into the ball, and then raced Jasper to first base. When they collided, the sound was like the crash of two massive falling boulders.

"Safe," Esme called in a calm voice.

I also learned rather quickly that the ball did not stay intact after the abuse it suffered due to their strength. Alice threw a perfect curve toward Edward who swung the bat around so quickly there was a resounding crack and a small puff of particles exploded from the point of contact. Esme dug into her bag and pulled out a replacement immediately. Within seconds the game was continuing.

Emmett's team was up by one, finally having hit a long fly out past Edward allowing Jasper to circle the bases and make it home. At the team switch, Emmett ran over to me guffawing with laughter at something Jasper had said to him.

"What do you think?" He asked.

"I probably won't be able to sit through any dull Major League game again," I laughed.

"Because you did so much of that before?"

"Well, it might have happened."

"Sure," he chuckled and patted my hair before darting back to rejoin the game.

When Carlisle came up to bat he knocked one so far out of the field that he and Edward both made it in. Alice slapped them dainty high fives.

The score constantly changed as the game continued, and they badgered each other relentlessly as they took turns with the lead. Occasionally Esme would call them to order. The thunder rumbled on, but we stayed dry, as Alice had predicted.

Carlisle was up to bat again when Alice suddenly gasped. My eyes were on Emmett, as usual, and I saw his head snap up to look at her. Edward, who had been on second base, flitted over to Emmett who immediately ran to my side before anyone could ask what was wrong.

"Alice?" Esme's voice was tense.

"I didn't see—I couldn't tell," she whispered.

All the others were gathered by this time, tensely clustered around me.

"What is it, Alice?" Carlisle asked calmly.

"They were traveling much quicker than I thought. I can see I had the perspective wrong before," she murmured.

Jasper leaned over her, his posture protective. "What changed?" he asked.

"They heard us playing, and it changed their path," she said, contrite, as if she felt responsible for whatever had frightened her.

Six pairs of eyes flashed toward my face and I realized they would have blanched were it possible. As it were, they all looked extremely tense with wide eyes, and dour turns to the mouth.

"How soon?" Carlisle turned toward Edward.

A look of intense concentration overtook his face as he spoke. "Less than five minutes. They're running because they want to play." He frowned gently. Emmett cursed.

"Will they make it?" Carlisle asked.

"I can damn well try," Emmett said forcefully.

"No, Emmett," Alice said. "You won't. Besides if they catch her scent and assume she's been whisked away for whatever reason, it might trigger a hunt."

"How many?" he asked Alice. He was hovering over me, and I could see it was taking every ounce of his concentration not to throw me over his shoulder and pelt toward the Jeep.

"Three," Alice answered tersely.

"Three?" While Emmett's voice showed relaxed disdain, I could see he wasn't interested in allowing these strangers anywhere near me. "Okay, we can handle three if we need to."

Carlisle debated for a split second while the others watched him anxiously. "We can't risk triggering a hunt. Maybe if we place her behind us, they'll see she's off limits and leave peacefully."

"And if not?" Emmett asked menacingly, his arms tightening to show metal-hard bands of muscles.

"Alice said they were simply curious," Carlisle said placatingly. "We'll keep playing until they get here."

All of this was said in a flurry of words that I only caught because time had seemed to slow down for me. Everything was in the sharp contrast that terror and adrenaline brought with it. I didn't catch the whispered words that Esme shot at Edward so quickly her lips merely vibrated. Whatever it was, Edward shook his head minutely.

"You join them, Esme," Emmett growled. "I'll catch."

She took off to join the others on the field. "Stay behind me, and be ready for me to carry you out of here."

I nodded and shook the numbness out of my hands. "It's those visitors you told me about earlier, isn't it?"

"Yes, stay very still, and very quiet." He was trying to hide the stress and anger in his voice, but I could hear it quite plainly. "Do not move from my side. Pull your hair down around your neck put your hood up."

I pulled the band from around my bun and shook the roll out from its bobby pins, attempting to smooth it around my shoulders.

"That won't help," Alice said softly. "I could smell her across the field."

"I know that, Alice." Emmett snapped.

The game began again half-heartedly with everyone clustered in much closer than necessary. Balls were hit low to the ground and kept within their tight circle.

"What did Esme ask Edward?" I whispered.

"Whether they were thirsty," he muttered unhappily.

As the seconds ticked by the game progressed with utmost apathy. It looked miserable, and I wondered why we couldn't just leave if this was such a worry, before I remembered someone saying it might trigger a "hunt." I shivered. Waiting here didn't really seem like a much better option. I gripped my shaking hands as we waited.

"I'm so sorry, La," Emmett mumbled. "It was so stupid to expose you like this. This is what I've been trying to avoid. I'm so sorry."

"Fuck you, Emmett," I told him lightly. "This was my choice too."

Suddenly, Edward's attention zeroed in on the right side of the field. The rest of the family stopped playing and directed their attention to the same place, hearing some sounds of passage too faint for my mortal ears. Emmett shoved me securely behind him, body tense and ready to fight or flee.


	18. The Hunt

**Author's note:** Before I even put the content warnings in, heads up- there's a lot of talk of trauma coming up.

**CW:** abuse, rape, kidnapping, domestic violence, panic attack

**TW:** PTSD, panic disorder

**18\. THE HUNT**

After a few seconds, three lithe figures entered the clearing one by one, dozens of meters apart. The first male that appeared immediately fell back allowing the second male to lead. Both he and the third figure, a female, oriented themselves around the leader in a way that showed the lean, dark-haired man as the obvious head of the coven. The female was small and feline with fiery red hair that seemed to undulate with a mind of its own.

They slowly closed ranks as they approached the Cullens, showing the respect one group of predators may show to another larger, stronger, unfamiliar group. As they approached, the marked differences between them and the Cullens became clearer.

Not only was it very visible that they had been traveling for a long while, they also moved with a catlike ferocity absent from the family I'd gotten to know. All three of them looked the worse for wear. None of them were wearing shoes, though I expected they didn't need them. All of their clothing was threadbare but had obviously once been of the sturdy backpacking variety; heavy-duty and waterproof.

The woman looked wild, almost feral with twigs stuck in her tresses, and rips torn through her clothing, while the two men had conventionally shorn hair, one dark, one sandy. Their eyes were sharp and focused as they took in the clearly urbane and polished look of the Cullens.

Carlisle, flanked by Jasper and Edward, stepped forward to greet the trio before they could get close enough to notice me standing behind Emmett. Alice and Esme took places to my right and left, ready to close in should the need arise.

The man in front was strikingly beautiful, even for a vampire, with olive-toned skin and glossy black hair. He was of medium build, lacking any real musculature- leaning more on the side of agile, sprinter's strength. His smile was open and easy with inviting friendliness.

The woman looked even wilder up close. Her eyes shifted from person to person, never resting, and she kept her stance loose, ready to fall into a crouch at any second. She was also stunningly beautiful, with full rosy lips, lively green eyes, and a lithe form.

The leader stepped forward to address Carlisle.

"We thought we heard a game!" His voice was relaxed, maintaining the friendly vibe his posture was communicating. "I'm Laurent, these are Victoria and James." He gestured to the vampires behind him.

"I'm Carlisle. This is my family," Carlisle listed our names without pointing out any individual, placing my name carelessly in the middle where it wouldn't draw attention. My hand was on the small of Emmett's back, so I could feel how tense he'd become, though his posture continued to appear as relaxed as Laurent's.

"Do you have room for a few more players?" Laurent asked. "It's been ages since we've had enough players for a game."

Carlisle matched Laurent's sociable manner. "Actually we were just finishing up. Are you planning on staying in the area long? We would certainly be interested another time."

"No, headed north, but we were curious to see who was in the neighborhood. What is your hunting range?" Laurent casually inquired. I noticed the tension was slowly easing and saw Jasper concentrating on each of the faces around him. He must have been using his peculiar gift to control the situation.

Carlisle gave Laurent an answer that ignored the blatant assumption behind the question. "The Olympic Range here, and up and down the Coast Ranges occasionally. We keep a permanent residence nearby, and there's another settlement like ours up by Denali."

"Permanent?" Laurent rocked back on his heels with obvious interest. When he spoke again, he was full of genuine curiosity. "How do you manage that?"

"Why don't you come back to our home so we can speak more comfortably?" Carlisle invited. This was an attempt to direct the three newcomers away from me naturally. The other two looked at each other at the mention of the word "home." Clearly, it wasn't something they normally associated with those of their kind.

It was this moment I finally looked properly at the second male, third of the newcomers. Laurent had said his name was James, and at the time I hadn't spared the name a second thought. "James" being a common enough name that my trauma related to it had long since stopped triggering when I heard it.

So absorbed was I in the speech of the leader, and so unobtrusive was James that I hadn't spared him the same scrutiny that I'd placed on the other two. On second look, James had a very familiar posture. The shape of his shoulders ducked in a way that was intimately known to me. His shaggy hair was a little different but the same color that I remembered. Perhaps a little shinier, a little silkier than the hair that I'd pulled out from under my fingernails the morning after that terrible night. He had the same watchful brown eyes that I'd felt bore into the small of my back on the long walk out of the courthouse in the pouring rain. The same half smirk of expectation.

My fist clenched into Emmett's shirt as the memories flooded me. I stared at James in disbelief as my fingers went numb, as my toes went cold. I lost all feeling in my face and my vision started to go black around the edges.

Carlisle and Laurent continued to chat amiably while my entire world shattered. How could he be here? How could he be a vampire? How could he have found me three thousand miles away. Nausea swept through me, the world tilting alarmingly on its side. I could still smell the scent of his cologne, hear his savage grunts as he kicked me. I could feel the ropes around my wrists as clearly as the day I'd woken up in his basement. I needed to flee, but where could I go that this monstrous version of my nightmare wouldn't find me? A sound was rising in the back of my mind, a long, single-note scream. This, I knew, was the start of a panic attack. The scream would become louder and louder in my head until it would burst out of my mouth.

Suddenly, as I knew it would, James' gaze settled on my own. For a moment there was no one in the world but the two of us. A smile of delight spread across his mouth as I watched him say my name with obvious relish.

"Kala!" he fell into a crouch.

Emmett let loose a snarl so ferocious I fell backward. Alice caught me before I hit the ground and held me up as my knees turned to jelly.

"What's this?" Laurent exclaimed.

James feinted sideways, but Edward was there to block him, expression full of black anger. Emmett shifted to hide me from view again, keeping his eyes trained on James.

"She's with us," Carlisle directed his firm rebuff at James, who only smiled maliciously and tested the resolve of the vampires crouched defensively before me. I was gripping Alice's arm, sure that if she let me go I would fall. Sure if I couldn't feel the coldness of her skin I would land back in that memory and never resurface.

"With you?" Laurent asked with incredulity. "You mean you brought a snack?"

"No," Carlisle corrected in a hard voice. "I said she's _with_ us."

"But she's _human,_" Laurent protested. He didn't seem to care whether I would be eaten or not, only couldn't bring himself to understand why I would be there in the first place.

"She's _mine_," Emmett snarled viciously. His eyes trained on James, who slowly stood from his crouch and returned to his relaxed posture. When he did this, Emmett took a step back as Edward moved a foot in front of us. Alice drew me back a few steps to allow room for their rearranging. I was crumbling faster by the second. James was still watching me, with a small smile playing around his lips.

"It appears we have a lot to learn about each other," Laurent hazarded.

"Indeed," Carlisle returned in a cold voice.

"We would like to accept your invitation. And we will, of course, not harm the girl. We have already agreed not to hunt in your range." Laurent's eyes flicked between me, Emmett, and Carlisle.

Victoria reacted with aggravated disbelief at Laurent's words and exchanged another look with James. I had a distinct feeling they wouldn't be complying with Laurent's edict.

Carlisle studied the three of them for a moment, then looked meaningfully at Edward who gave him a minute nod. "I'll show you the way," he said finally.

Emmett watched them carefully as they followed Carlisle out of the field then scooped me up into his arms and took off into the trees. At this point the panic overcame me. I was hyperventilating so violently I lost every ounce of oxygen in my lungs and blacked out. When I came to Emmett was shaking me gently and calling my name.

"Put me down," I mumbled. I stumbled a few steps away from him and promptly vomited before collapsing onto my elbows and knees. Alice was there supporting me as I heaved while Emmett jumped into the driver's seat to start the truck.

"How did he find me?" I asked Alice, who only shook her head.

"I don't know, honey," she answered me quietly, stroking my hair. Then to Emmett, I heard her call, "He's going to double back, we need to go."

"I'm driving," he thundered. "Edward, get her strapped in. Alice, keep a look out for me up here."

I was lifted from the puddle I'd collapsed into and placed gently into the backseat of the Jeep. Edward quickly set all the clasps in place until I was secure and Emmett gunned his way back down the road.

Panic was still threatening the edges of my vision as we trundled along. I pulled my knees into my chest and wrapped my arms around them as the scream that had started in the back of my mind earlier finally burst free as a full flashback overwhelmed me. The sound tearing its way out my throat was a raw, evil one that ripped out of me at such a volume it hurt my own ears. The smell of blood surrounded me and I couldn't tell if it was part of the flashback or if I'd bit my tongue.

Cold arms circled me and whispered calming things that I couldn't quite hear, but I felt myself latch on to. A ringing mantra was going off in my head on a repetitive cycle: _stop screaming, stop screaming, you're okay, stop screaming, he's not going to get you, stop screaming._

"Edward, talk to me!" Emmett's voice was tight with anxiety. "What's going on?"

"She's having a panic attack," Edward explained. "There seems to be some ugly history between her and James."

"What kind of history?" Emmett asked sharply.

"That's what I'm trying to discern," Edward said, placing his cool hands on the back of my neck, probably picking up that it felt good against the cold sweat pooling below my hairline, and dribbling down my forehead into my eyes.

My flashback switched scenes, and suddenly I could smell James sweat as it dripped on my face. I could see the twist his mouth made as he came. I felt the thrust of his hips against my thighs, the pricks of pain his nails made as the dug into my skin. My screams got louder.

"Hey-" Edward said sharply. "You are not with him. Do you hear me?"

_No._

Alice started singing in the front seat; a soft sad lullaby in a language I didn't recognize.

"You can hear me," Edward continued. "Listen to us, you're safe here. You're not where your memory says you are."

"I've got you, babe. We're getting you out of here, don't worry," Emmett said from the front seat. I wanted him in the back with me. I wanted to know he was as real as he sounded.

"We are real," Edward said. "I promise. There you go."

The screams stopped suddenly. The panic attack wasn't over, but I didn't have anything left with which to scream.

_Where are we going? Where can we possibly go?_ My jaw was clenched so tight I couldn't break it to speak. I clawed at the harness feeling restricted, unable to breathe. A thousand questions swirled in my brain, threatening to pull me under again.

"East," Edward said, quickly. "We're heading for Calgary." He caught my wrists and held them loosely, but firmly to keep me from scrabbling at the seatbelts.

_No,_ I thought. _We can't, he must know about my uncle. He'll go there first._

"Esme and Jasper will make sure he's safe," Edward said.

"What?" Emmett asked. "Who's safe?"

"She's worried about her uncle," Edward said.

"No one is getting to Kevin, La," Emmett told me. "We won't leave him unprotected but we need to get you out of here first."

"No," I finally managed to whisper and carefully disentangled myself from Edward's iron grip. _We need to turn around, Edward. If I go missing Kevin will stop at nothing until I'm found. He will tear your family apart, you will have to hide for a lifetime before it will be safe for you._

"We've done it before, we can do it again."

"No," my voice grew steadier with conviction. Oxygen started penetrating my brain, I concentrated on counting my breaths. _No, we have to show him,_ I couldn't even think his name. Instead, a picture of his face appeared in my mind,_ we're leaving, and we have to make sure Kevin knows. I bet he's still at my house we have to go back there._

A plan started forming in my mind. It was simple, straightforward and it would work. I stared at Edward, willing him to understand.

"We need to go back to the house," I managed through my raw throat. My voice sounded torn and bloody. It was barely audible, but they heard me anyway.

"I think we should listen to her, Emmett." Edward glanced up at his brother. "Her plan will work… if we can get the timing right."

"No," his tone was absolute.

"He's no match for the talent between Edward and me - not to mention you, Emmett." Alice finally spoke up. "If we turn back now we'll beat him to the house."

"He'll just wait," Emmett said.

"Who has better patience than you?" Edward asked. "Plus, I saw inside his head. He was decided before Laurent even spoke. His talent is hunting, he's a tracker the likes of which I've never seen. He's going to be unshakable. We're going to have to kill him Emmett, and for once I'm looking forward to it, but he won't even attempt it until he thinks he can win, so we need to be smarter than him."

"There's another option…" Alice dropped in.

"That would definitely negate the problem," Edward agreed.

Emmett groaned. "I can't do that, not liked this. It isn't an option, Alice. Don't even think of it."

"Do you want to hear my plan?" I asked quietly.

When no one spoke I continued. "You take me back to the house, I tell Kevin what happened- not all of it, obviously, and tell him I'm going to California to stay with Mom. If we time it right, _he'll_ hear it and will leave Kevin alone. Kevin will know I'm in trouble, but basically safe. He won't go nuts on your family, and he won't get murdered by a fucked up killer for the pleasure of knowing me.

"After that, you can take me anywhere you goddamn please."

"It's going to work, Emmett." Alice backed me up. "I can see it."

Emmett thought it over carefully before I felt the car slow. He made a wide U-turn and floored it back toward Forks.

"He's not going to get through us, Emmett." Edward promised.

"I know, he won't," Emmett agreed. "I just don't want her anywhere near any of this. I didn't want this for her. I didn't want this for you, La."

"I don't blame you, Emmett."

"I don't see him attacking," Alice said after a moment. "He's going to try to wait for us to leave her alone. Which isn't going to happen."

A few minutes passed in silence as we tore down the highway. Then Emmett finally spoke again.

"This is how this is going down. When we get to the house, if we beat the tracker, I'll walk La to the front door. In no more than fifteen minutes we have to be out of there. Edward, you wait outside the house. Alice, you take the wheel of the Jeep and be ready to fly when we get back in.

"If the tracker is there, we keep driving."

"We're going to make it there before him," Alice said again confidently.

"After that, we'll split up," Emmett said.

"No," Edward interrupted. "I'm with you until this is over."

"Okay, we'll meet back up with the family, and split up from there," Emmett continued. "I'll take La south with Edward, the rest of you can do your best to muddy the trail, and nail them."

"No," I said. "We'll need to split up, too, Emmett. After your declaration of ownership, he's going to think I am wherever you are. You'll have a better chance of cornering him without me."

"Fuck!" Emmett yelled and hit the dash. "Fuck, you're right."

"Edward should stay, too." I squeezed Edward's hand. _He's going to need you,_ I thought._ Keep him safe._ I got a returning squeeze and knew I would get no argument from him.

"You're not seriously suggesting you go alone?" Emmett shot out. "You think that's even remotely a good idea?"

"Of course not," Alice interjected before I could whip back with a reply. "Jasper and I will go with her."

"No," Emmett said again. But I could tell his resolve was breaking.

"Spend a week-" I caught his expression in the mirror and amended. "A few days going in the opposite direction, then get to the nearest airport and fly to me. We'll meet in the airport then fly somewhere weird."

"Which airport?"

"San Francisco." Where else?

"You're going to tell him where you're going and then go there?" He asked impatiently. "No."

"Stop saying 'no,'" I snapped. "If he hears me say that he's going to know it's a ruse and he won't expect us to actually go there."

"See?" Alice said brightly. "It's going to work."

"La," the Jeep was crawling along my street now. "If anything happens to you- anything at all- I will never forgive myself. Do you understand? You have to keep yourself safe."

"That's the idea," I quipped. "We can cross that bridge when we come to it."

"Can Jasper handle this?" Emmett asked Alice severely.

"Give him some credit, Emmett. He's been doing very well, all things considered."

"Can you handle this?"

Graceful, tiny, ballerina Alice pulled her lips back into a terrifying grimace and let loose a terrific, guttural snarl.

"Good," Emmett said with a smile. "Just keep your opinions to yourself."


	19. Flight

**Music note:** Nobody's Guy, The Delta Bombers

**19\. FLIGHT**

Kevin's truck was still parked in front of my house as I expected it to be. When Billy mentioned a game was on, I assumed Kevin would rather stay to watch it than miss part of it on the drive back to the reservation.

Emmett pulled up slowly, staying away from my Fiat. All three of the vampires were acutely alert, ramrod straight in their seats, listening to every sound of the woods, looking through every shadow, catching every scent, searching for something out of place. The engine cut off, and I sat, motionless, as they continued to listen.

"He's not here," Edward finally said tersely. "One minute until he arrives."

Edward reached over and quickly unclasped all the buckles on the harness until I was free.

"Don't worry, La," he whispered as he worked. "Move quickly. We'll make sure everyone here is safe."

It struck me that if something happened to us tonight I may never see him again. I was already thinking of him, Alice, and all the rest as my future family. Never seeing them again would be unbearable.

"Alice, Edward," Emmett's voice was tight and commanding. They slithered into the darkness soundlessly, instantly disappearing. Emmett opened my door, took my hand, then drew me tightly into his side as we walked swiftly to the door.

"Fifteen minutes, max," he warned under his breath.

"I can do this," my voice was firm with resolve. "I love you," I said fiercely and opened the door.

"La?" Kevin's voice sounded from the living room. "Are you back already? How'd it go?"

His footsteps sounded down the hall and stopped abruptly when he saw my face.

"What happened?" He looked quickly between me and Emmett, trying to find the source of the problem. The turning gears in his head were very nearly audible. Had Emmett hurt me? Was I in trouble?

"It's," my voice caught on a lump in my throat. Kevin took a step toward me in alarm. "It's James."

"What?" Kevin shouted. "Come in, come in through here." He dragged me into the kitchen and sat me down.

"We don't have time to-" Emmett began.

"You wait right there, and shut the fuck up." Kevin's anger was visceral and just as terrifying as Emmett's snarl had been earlier, but he gentled as he turned back to me. "What happened, kiddo? Tell me everything."

"James found me," I told my favorite uncle. "He was at the baseball field and tried to attack me."

Kevin's face hardened into a mask of cold fury. "I'm calling the police." He stood to pull his phone from his pocket.

"No," I said quickly. "I'm leaving. He may have followed us home, so me and Emmett are going to stay with Mom for a few days."

"Why should you have to leave? We need to make a police report. He's been missing for over a year, if he's turned up now he probably has a plan…" Kevin was reaching for his phone again.

"Kevin," my voice broke on his name. "I can't go through that again. I can't rehash the details, I can't…" I broke down into sobs so violent I shook.

"Okay, okay," Kevin gripped me into a tight hug. "Okay, we won't call. Go to San Francisco. I'll stay here and make sure he doesn't come around, okay?

"Get your things," he told me, then gripped Emmett's arm as he made to follow me, keeping the larger man in place.

I ran upstairs and grabbed a hold-all bag out of the hall closet. In my room, I stuffed the first things I saw into the it until it was full, then crouched into the bottom of my closet to open the safe where I kept my roll of rainy-day money. Emmett entered my room as I fit the last item into the bag. At some point in my frenzied packing, I'd begun to shake with such violence my fingers couldn't quite clasp the little zipper to get the bag closed. Emmett took it from me, closed it, and slung it over his shoulder.

Back downstairs Kevin was pacing irritably.

"Are you sure I can't call emergency once you leave?"

"I'd rather you didn't."

"You can't run for the rest of your life, La." He pulled me back into a tight embrace. "I need you to be safe."

"I will be," I whispered, and hugged him back tightly. "I'll call you when we get to San Francisco."

"Emmett," Kevin said.

"I won't let him anywhere near her, sir." Emmett held out an arm and shook Kevin's arm. They were gripping each other's forearms tightly in a warming gesture of sincere respect I didn't expect. I hoped vividly they would have the chance to know each other in the future, but somehow knew it wasn't meant to be.

We bolted out the door, running for the truck as quickly as my pace allowed. Emmett threw open the passenger door, and stuffed me inside next to Alice, then vaulted to the back of the truck, where he gripped on to the roll bars instead of getting into the back seat.

Alice already had the car in gear and was backing out of the driveway as Edward leaned forward to re-buckle my harness. I peered out the window hopelessly, watching for any sign of movement.

"He's following us but doesn't have any intention of attacking," Edward explained to soothe my fears.

"Why did this happen?" I asked out loud, while in my head I was crying, _why me?!_ "There are billions of people in the world, thousands of people in Forks… How could he possibly have found me? _Three thousand miles_, Edward. It doesn't make any sense."

"I don't know," he answered. "I got a good look at his mind tonight, though. I'm not sure what the odds are of your attacker becoming a vampire then finding you again, but I what _can _say is that when Emmett defended you… well, that made an unfortunate and unlikely situation a lot worse. He's not used to being thwarted, no matter how insignificant the object. He thinks of himself as a hunter and nothing else. His existence is consumed with tracking, and a challenge is all he asks of life. Suddenly we've presented him with a beautiful challenge—a large clan of strong fighters all bent on protecting the one vulnerable element. You wouldn't believe how euphoric he is now. It's his favorite game, and we've just made it his most exciting game ever." He was full of disgust.

"And I'm his favorite trophy," I finished for him. The picture Edward painted of the inside of James' head was nothing new to me. I was more familiar with the psychology of his mind than my own.

"That may be true, but if Emmett had stood by, he would have killed you right then," Alice added from behind the wheel.

"Without a doubt," I agreed. "He was frustrated that I got away the first time…" I shuddered and saw my mind moving back towards dangerous territory, so I blurted out the first thing that came to my head.

"Why are you being so nice to me?" I asked Edward.

He gave me an understanding, gentle smile. "Emmett may be unwilling to admit this to himself, but I can see the connection the two of you have very clearly. You two are connected in the same way Alice and Jasper are, or Esme and Carlisle. You're part of the family now. Taking care of you goes without saying."

Tears pricked my eyes. Whatever I was expecting it hadn't been that. Alice's little hand reached over to grip mine in support.

"How does one kill a vampire?" I asked, dwelling on what Edward had said earlier about the necessity.

"The only way to be sure is to tear them to pieces and burn the chunks," Alice's words set against her tiny bell-like voice seemed like the perfect dichotomy.

"So there will be a fight?" I asked.

"That does seem likely," Edward agreed, bluntly. "But if it comes to that we are a whole lot stronger than they are," he added quickly. "I wouldn't worry about it."

"Easy for you to say," I gathered. "Is he still following?"

"Yes," Edward sighed as Alice turned down the hidden road to their house.

"But he won't attack tonight," Alice assured me.

We drove right up to the house. The lights inside were bright, but they did little to alleviate the blackness that spilled from the many trees surrounding the house. Emmett leaped off the back of the Jeep and had my door open before the truck was fully stopped. Without a word, he pulled me out of the seat, tucked me protectively into his chest, and ran through the door.

When we burst into the large white room, full of its delicate features, Emmett set me down and pushed me behind his bulk. His hands encircled my wrists to keep me in place while Edward and Alice flanked us on either side. At first, I couldn't see what had pushed him even closer to the edge until I noticed the family were already on their feet at the sound of our approach. I peered around Emmett's shoulder into the room to find Laurent standing between Carlisle and Esme. Low growls emanated from deep in Emmett's throat.

"He's tracking us," Edward announced, glaring menacingly at Laurent.

Laurent slouched with unhappiness. "I was afraid of that."

Alice danced to Jasper's side and whispered in his ear; her lips quivered with the speed of her silent speech. They flew up the stairs together.

"What will he do?" Carlisle asked Laurent chillingly.

"I'm sorry," he answered. "I was afraid, when your boy there defended her, that it would set him off."

"Can you stop him?"

Laurent shook his head. "Nothing stops James when he gets started."

"We'll stop him," Emmett promised. There was no doubt what he meant.

"You can't bring him down. I've never seen anything like him in my three hundred years. He's absolutely lethal. That's why I joined his coven."

_His_ _coven_, I thought, _of course_. The show of leadership in the clearing was merely that, a show. My mind still balked, trying to figure out how the person from the darkest, most horrendous experiences of my life had resurfaced, and now with the powers of a god. It couldn't be a coincidence, could it? He must have been looking for me.

Laurent was shaking his head. He glanced at me, perplexed, and back to Carlisle. "Are you sure it's worth it?"

Emmett's enraged roar filled the room; Laurent cringed back.

Carlisle looked gravely at Laurent. "I'm afraid you're going to have to make a choice."

Laurent understood. He deliberated for a moment. His eyes took in every face and finally swept the bright room.

"I'm intrigued by the life you've created here. But I won't get in the middle of this. I bear none of you any enmity, but I won't go up against James. I think I will head north—to that clan in Denali." He hesitated. "Don't underestimate James. He's got a brilliant mind and unparalleled senses. He's every bit as comfortable in the human world as you seem to be, and he won't come at you head on.… I'm sorry for what's been unleashed here. Truly sorry." He bowed his head, but I saw him flicker another puzzled look at me.

"Go in peace," Carlisle allowed. The dismissal dripped heavily with disappointment. Laurent was left with no choice but to excuse himself. He took another long look around himself, and then he hurried out the door.

The silence lasted less than a second.

"How close?" Carlisle looked to Edward.

Esme was already moving; her hand touched an inconspicuous keypad on the wall, and with a groan, huge metal shutters began sealing up the glass wall.

"About three miles out past the river; he's circling around to meet up with the female."

"What's the plan?" Carlisle asked Emmett.

"We'll lead him off, and then Jasper and Alice will run her south."

"And then?" Carlisle prompted.

Emmett's tone was deadly. "As soon as La is clear, we hunt him."

"I guess there's no other choice," Carlisle agreed, face grim.

"Esme, would you take La upstairs to trade clothes, please?" Emmett was already moving toward the garage to pack.

"Of course," she murmured, and swept me up the honey-colored staircases to her bedroom.

"What are we doing?" I asked her, as I pulled my shirt over my head and tore at the laces on my boots so I could kick them off to pull my jeans over my feet. We were in what I assumed was her room, in the dark. I couldn't see, so she helped maneuver her shirt over my head and step into her slacks. They were too long, so I rolled them up a few times, and slipped into her boots as she spoke.

"We're trying to confuse the scent, dear," she said. "It won't work for long but it will at least help you get out of here."

I could hear the sounds of hangers shifting as she sorted through her closet. In a second she was back with me, pulling my arms through the sleeves of a jacket before she swept me back into her arms and flew down the stairs.

Alice was still in the foyer with my leather hold-all slung over a shoulder. Everything had been settled while Esme and I switched clothes upstairs. Edward and Emmett were ready to leave, Emmett carrying a heavy backpack over his shoulder. Carlisle handed each team a small silver burner phone.

"Turn your phones off when you're in Seattle, and switch to using only these. Esme and I will take the Volkswagen, Emmett and Edward will take the Jeep." He turned to Alice. "Alice, you and Jasper take the Audi. You'll need the tint when you're traveling south. Will they take the bait?"

Everyone watched Alice as she closed her eyes and frowned in concentration.

Finally, her eyes opened. "He'll track you. The woman will follow the truck. We should be able to leave after that." Her voice was certain.

"Let's go." Carlisle began to walk toward the kitchen with Esme and Edward on his heels. Esme gave me a light touch across the cheek as she passed and wished me safe.

Emmett came to me instead of following his father straight away. He caught me up in his iron grip and crushed me against his chest. When he let me go it was only to peer straight into my face, grey eyes boring into mine.

"You are everything," he said and turned away to join his family. They flew out the side door to the garage.

We stood in silence, waiting for the all clear. Tears streaked down my face as I worried about the people risking life and limb for me. I wished more than anything that none of this was necessary, that Emmett could stay with me and we could go on arguing about the appropriate number of liters in an engine. I wanted to see him flash his dimple at me and hear one more incredulous laugh. More than anything I wanted to be able to help him protect his family, and now it may be too late.

Alice's phone buzzed briefly.

"Edward says the female is on Esme's trail. I'll get the car." She vanished into the garage.

Jasper and I looked at each other. He stood as far away from me as the entry hall allowed, still being careful.

"You're wrong you know," he said quietly.

"About what?" I asked him.

"I can feel what you're feeling," he explained. "You _are_ worth it."

"I'm not worth losing anyone in your family," I corrected him.

"You are our family, now," he echoed Edward with a kind smile.

Alice entered back into the hall, this time through the front door. She grinned at me and came forward with her arms held out.

"May I?" she asked.

"You're the first one to ask," I told her wryly, and allowed her to lift me in her slender arms.

We shot out into the night together, Jasper sliding into the driver's side while Alice scooted me into the back with her. It happened so quickly I was only left with the fleeting impression of an empty house blazing with a happy, welcoming light that couldn't dispel the terror of our flight.


	20. Waiting Game

**Music note:** Dark Night, The Blasters

**20\. WAITING GAME**

I awoke in a state of confusion in a room I did not recognize. It was bland, white-washed, and completely unremarkable in a way no lived-in space can achieve. My thoughts were hazy and muddled, all twisted up in murky nightmares. It took me longer than it should have to realize I was in a hotel room, it took even longer for me to remember why.

The ride to this bland room had been uneventful and tedious. There was very little of substance to remember about the trip, but I found I _did_ recall a sleek black car with windows tinted darker than a limo's. Another vague, botchy memory swam around my head of racing down highways, and weaving in and out of cars as we passed towns on our way south through Washington, Oregon, then into California.

Mostly I remembered Alice curled up with me on the black leather of the back seat. I remembered crying violently into her shoulder. My closeness didn't seem to bother her at all, and the coolness of her skin had been a comfort to my raw cheeks.

Sleep had evaded me on the entire ride, as focused as I had been on the wait for a phone call that never came. I'd watched as we'd darted down the coastline, then broke inland to skip away from the 101 to the 80 and moved in toward San Francisco. There had been a murmured conversation just as the sun began to rise while we sped down the I-80. _…Oakland, or San Mateo? …Oakland…._

I was still awake as we sat through morning traffic on the bridge into the city, awake as we passed the park, and battled through the Mission. As we watched the mish-mash, multihued, boxy houses fly by I couldn't help but feel the inevitability of capture. Even with all of our haste, how could we possibly outrun someone like James?

I'd been running for months, hiding in plain sight, always looking over my shoulder, knowing he would eventually catch up with me. Somehow I always knew I'd end up here, back on the run, no matter what I did.

Sitting in that car, racing through one of the most iconic cities in the world, I felt myself fall to pieces. I wanted more than anything to have Emmett's solidity beside me. His humor, and bravery. I needed to be strong, I needed to be whole so I could find my way back to him, but where would I find the strength to fight my way clear of this trauma again? Doing it once had been too much, a second time was an impossibility.

Alice's cool hand had brushed my cheek as the shaking began all over again. Her calm reassurance made me realize I had to make it, I had to fight my way clear, because even putting Emmett aside, I couldn't give up on Alice. On the possibility of our friendship, on my future with this family.

I wasn't sure if I believed in the Fates. It wasn't something I'd ever considered before, but in this world of vampires and werewolves, it was just as possible the three women from Greek mythology had brought us together as anything else. During a time in my life where I couldn't possibly have survived without help Clotho, Lachesis, and Atropo had given me a tribe that not only had the ability but _wanted_ to fight for my life. Who was I to give up when I'd been offered so much?

Eventually, we passed the huge white plaster sign inset into the hills that read "South San Francisco, The Industrial City," in faded, dirty letters, and I let myself believe we'd successfully carved out a moment of grace. The hotel was less than a mile from the airport, which was as close as we could get since the airport didn't have one attached. I'd been able to stay awake through the check-in process, but once we'd entered the room I'd come directly into the bedroom suite, fallen face first onto the mattress and been asleep for… how long?

I wiggled my toes and found them free of shoes. Alice must have taken Esme's boots off of me at some point, but I was still in the taller woman's blouse and slacks.

The clock beside the bed said it was three o'clock, but gave no opinion on whether that was am or pm. A bank of windows to my left was covered with black-out curtains that stretched along the wall so far they covered any helpful indication. I slumped out of the impersonal hotel bed to check.

It was as pitch dark as it could be in a major city. Three am, then. The lights of South San Francisco glittered appealingly in the distance. I thought about my mom, and her beautiful house in the middle of the Mission district. I would have loved to see her, but she was supposed to be traveling, and anyway it wasn't safe.

_Where is my bag_, I wondered mildly, gazing around the room. The wall at the foot of the bed contained a gigantic television with a wide, but slender stand below it. Opening the cabinet doors revealed instructions to access the internet, two remotes, and a small safe. The wall to the right side of the bed had a doorway that must have lead out to the rest of the suit and a low bureau. There was nothing in the drawers, not even a bible. Two more doors flanked the head of the bed on either side. One led to a closet, where I found my leather hold-all, and the other led to a bathroom.

On the left, a small table with two winged chairs stood in front of the windows. A mini fridge was parked in the corner underneath the last bank of glass. I went over to it, thinking a bottle of water would help clear the last of the fuzz from my brain, and then scratched the idea in favor of a shower. I quickly rolled over the bed to get to the closet instead of walking around it as a soft knock rattled the cheap hotel door.

"Can I come in?" Alice asked politely, but she was already coming through the door.

"Yeah," I said belatedly and grabbed my bag from the closet. I set it next to Alice where she was taking a seat on the bed and dug through it for more comfortable clothes.

"You look like you could sleep a little longer," she said.

"I don't want to," I shook my head. My voice was extremely hoarse. It groaned and cracked as it rasped over the raw flesh of my throat. I realized I should have chosen the fridge over the shower for that bottle of water. "Too nervous."

"Okay," she said. "Thirsty?"

"Yes, very," I muttered as I stuffed the bag under the bed where it would be in easy reach later. Alice went to the fridge for me and pulled a bottle out. I gulped it down thankfully and slumped back onto the bed next to my clothes, feeling rather more emotional than I had any care to. It was unfair that I should still feel the need to fight back tears after all the crying I had done on the way down from Forks. How could I possibly have any left?

"How about you?" I finally asked her, attempting to divert my attention away from my own woes.

"Nothing unmanageable," she assured me and sat next to my prone figure. "I ordered some food for you! It's in the sitting room. Emmett reminded me that you need to eat a whole lot more often than we do. He said something about you getting 'hangry.' What is hangry?"

I ignored the question, having already latched on to one important fact. "Emmett called?"

"No," she shook her head sadly. "It was before we left, there's been no news. Which is probably a good thing. If he can't call it's because he's too close. James may overhear him. Want to change?"

I nodded numbly and pulled Esme's pants off to trade with my soft pj's. Once I was dressed Alice took my hand and dragged me out to the sitting room. Jasper was seated on the couch staring blankly at the TV. Clearly, he wasn't actually watching what was on. Alice took a seat next to him, so I slowly sank to the floor next to the covered tray of food. Lifting the cover revealed a burger with fries. The smell made me feel sick so I recovered the food and leaned against Alice's legs.

When she didn't react I looked up to find both her and Jasper still staring vacantly at the TV even though commercials were playing.

"What's wrong?" I asked feeling a dull sense of alarm.

"Nothing is wrong," she turned to me calmly, eyes wide in innocence. I didn't believe it for a second.

"Uh huh," I said. "What do we do now?"

"We wait for Carlisle to call."

"And he should he have called be now." Finally she shifted. Her eyes flicked to the little silver cellphone and back.

"I told you, it probably means he's too close."

"Then why hasn't he texted?" I felt the air draw close and adrenaline spike through my veins. Something was very wrong.

"There probably isn't anything to tell us."

"Then why-" my breath was coming faster.

"Delilah," Jasper leaned toward me, interrupting my next question. "You have nothing to worry about, you're completely safe here."

"Of course I am," I shot back irritably. "I'm aware of that."

"Then why are you feeling frightened?"

"Because your brothers and your father and mother are out there possibly getting themselves killed right now. Over me. Because a terror from my past has suddenly resurfaced and is _hunting_ me. Again. Only now he can literally lift a car. You heard what Laurent said, James is unbeatable, and the love of my life is currently provoking him into a fight. Anything could go wrong, Jasper. They could get separated, and Esme could get hurt. Or James could find a way to get to Carlisle. All of this because James wants _me_."

"La, La! Stop." Jasper said firmly, interrupting my panicked rambling. "You don't need to worry about any of that. You really don't. Our clan is too strong for any duo, especially with the talent between Edward and Emmett. No one is going to get hurt. Our only fear is losing you."

The tears I'd been holding back sprung in my eyes. I wiped them away angrily. "You said yourself I'm safe here. But either way, no one should have felt the need to risk themselves for me. I'm angry this has happened in the first place!"

Alice slid to the floor to sit beside me, turning to face me directly and gripped my hands tightly. "You are right to be angry, but you need to let your worry over the family go. They are going to be fine. You are our only concern. It's been nearly a century that Emmett has been alone. You can't see the strength of the positive change that has come over him, but we can. His _family_ who have known him for _so_ long. Do you think any of us will be able to look into his eyes for the next hundred years if he loses you?"

Calm spread over me, and for once I was thankful of Jasper's eerie talent with emotions.

"What if I lose _him_?"

"You won't." They said together.

It was a very long day.

We stayed in the room with the windows shut, the curtains drawn, and the TV muted, colorful pictures dancing across it. I tried to read, but couldn't concentrate. I tried to listen to music, but it grated on my nerves. I finally pulled out the cross stitching ring I'd packed just to fill the bag and practiced stitching shapes with no discernable pattern. All the while the little cellphone sitting on the table grew bigger and bigger as the hours passed.

My babysitter's handled the stress better than I could. They watched me move from activity to activity, somehow growing more and more still. Their eyes followed me as I took breaks to pace, as I spent time memorizing every detail of the room and then collapsed into a stress-filled huddle on the floor. Every once in a while I could feel the touch of Jasper subtly altering my emotions to keep me calm.

I was officially going stir crazy.

The longer we sat there waiting the more I wondered why they didn't just change me. Would James even want me after that? Maybe I could help them fight him. I could defend myself, and this wonderful family wouldn't have to come to my defense.

Eventually I moved back into the bedroom simply for something to do. It was only 7pm, not late enough to sleep, but maybe I could swing it anyway, and better yet, away from Jasper's influence the urgency of my situation might help me come up with a plan to get everyone out of it.

Away from Jasper's influence, though, I found it very hard to think at all. The panic that had settled at the edges of my consciousness reared aggressively making it hard to find any coherency.

Alice followed me casually, as if she'd decided she needed a change of scenery at exactly the same moment I had. Her closeness made me wonder what exactly Emmett's instructions had been, but I appreciated the company. She flopped back into the pillows, mimicking my posture.

"Alice?" I asked, hesitantly.

"Yes?"

"What do you think they're doing?" My voice was remarkably level, considering the turmoil inside.

"Emmett wanted to lead the tracker as far north as possible, wait for him to get close, and then turn and ambush him. Esme and Carlisle were supposed to head west as long as they could keep the female behind them. If she turned around, they were to head back to Forks and keep an eye on your uncle. I imagine things are going well if Emmett can't call."

"Because the tracker might be too close. What about Esme and Carlisle? Do you think they're still leading the female away?"

"I think they must be back in Forks. They won't call if there's any chance the female will overhear. I expect they're all just being very careful."

"Do you think they're safe, really? It just seems weird they won't text."

"It's safer to leave the phones off until they're needed. La, how many times do we have to tell you that there's no danger to us?"

"Would you tell me the truth, though?"

"Yes. I will always tell you the truth." Her voice was so earnest I couldn't doubt the sincerity.

I watched her face lying on the pillow so close to mine. Her rosy lips were relaxed, her brow softened without the anxiety that marred mine. Without a moment's deliberation I decided now was as good a time as any to ask the important questions. And, anyway I needed the distraction, so I shot my first question out before I could think about it too deeply.

"How do you become a vampire?"

As I hoped, the question caught her off guard. She was quiet for just a moment too long, face showing ambivalence.

"Emmett doesn't want me to tell you that," she said firmly. A slight expression flitted across her face that gave me the impression she didn't agree. I pressed the advantage quickly.

"I don't really think that's his choice."

"I agree," she sighed. "But he will be _extremely_ annoyed with me if I tell you."

"Well, it's a good thing it's not his business then. It's between me and you and he can just get over it."

"I don't know, La…"

"Alice, as my friend," I pleaded. "I am begging you." The shock of calling her my friend, so blatantly asking her to choose between me and her brother didn't hit me until she was already watching my carefully, making a decision. Somehow, it felt right though, Alice and I curled up on a bed, holding hands and sharing secrets. It felt natural in a way no other friendship ever had. She must have known this was coming all along. This realization gave me a faint glimmer of hope, that no matter what happened in the next couple of days, we would make it through this, and Alice and I would have the chance to fulfill a beautiful friendship.

"I'll tell you the mechanics of it," she finally said.

"Yes!" I sat up so I could give her all of my attention.

She sat up with me, crossing her legs underneath her and folding her arms into her lap.

"As predators, we have a sort of glut of weapons in our physical arsenal—much, much more than really necessary. The strength, the speed, the acute senses, not to mention those of us like Edward, Jasper, myself, and even Emmett to a certain degree, who have extra abilities as well. On top of all that, like a carnivorous flower, we are physically attractive to our prey."

I remembered how pointedly Emmett had demonstrated this concept for me in the meadow.

"We have another fairly superfluous weapon," Alice's lips spread in a wide, ominous smile. "We're also venomous. The venom doesn't kill, exactly, though eventually it may as well be the same. It works slowly, spreading through the bloodstream, incapacitating our prey, so that, once bitten, our prey is in too much physical pain to escape us. Mostly superfluous, as I said. If we're that close, the prey doesn't escape. Of course, there are always exceptions. Carlisle, for example."

"So… if the venom is left to spread…" I murmured thinking about what a random ability it was to have a non-lethal venom. "That makes me think your venom isn't a weapon but a tool. I wonder if that's how you're meant to procreate."

"That is a very good point. Some of our kind use it that way, but it seems like a barbaric way to make 'children.' Carlisle has always put it firmly in the weapon category. But maybe that's too easy an answer… Carlisle has never been one to view vampirism as anything remotely natural, so he wouldn't consider procreation a necessary part of our life cycle." She thought about this for a few seconds before continuing.

"Anyway, it takes a few days for the transformation to complete, depending on how much venom is in the bloodstream, and how close the venom enters to the heart. As long as the heart keeps beating, the poison spreads, healing, and changing the body as it moves through it."

"Sorry," I interrupted again. "Changes the body?"

"Yes," she replied. "Our bodies change in subtle ways. Adapt to what our prey will find most appealing. We're not exactly frozen you see, but the changes come in such small ways it can be hard to pinpoint. When something large shifts for us, it is basically permanent."

"You mean emotionally?"

"Yes," she answered. "But I digress. Eventually the venom enters the heart and stops it, which triggers the end of the conversion. The worst part? All that time, every minute of it, a victim would be wishing for death."

I shivered.

"It's not pleasant, you see."

"Emmett mentioned it being very painful."

"That would be a massive understatement, from what I understand."

Another shiver racked through me. "He also said it was very hard to do, is that because blood is so hard to resist?"

"We're like sharks in that way. Once we taste the blood, or even smell it for that matter, it becomes very hard to keep from feeding. Sometimes impossible. So you see, to actually bite someone, to taste the blood, it could begin the frenzy."

"But not with Carlisle?"

"Carlisle is extraordinary."

"That pain seems like something a person could never forget. Why do you think you don't remember?"

"I don't know, because you're right. For everyone else, the pain of transformation is the sharpest memory they have of their human life. I remember nothing of being human." Her voice was full of wistful remorse, and I wondered what human lives looked like to the immortal that could create such contemplative longing.

I gripped her hand and lay back down to digest everything she'd told me. It definitely made sense that Emmett had been so unwilling to even attempt it. Knowing what my blood smelled of to him made me not want to ever have to put him through it. Maybe Carlisle would be able to?

With an abrupt change in her facial expression, Alice suddenly leapt from the bed, landing delicately on her feet by the door. I jumped, myself, her quick movements startling me so badly I nearly fell out of the bed.

"Something's changed." Her speech was hurried, her eyes staring off into an unknowable distance. I realized she wasn't talking to me only when Jasper barged into the room, gently taking her by the shoulders to lead her to the couch. He kicked the coffee table out of the way to kneel before her and stare intensely into her eyes.

"What do you see?" He was still holding on to her shoulders, watching every flicker of her face my eyes were too slow to see.

She looked around the room, clearly seeing into another place as her eyes seemed to fix on things that weren't there.

"I'm in a large open room. It has concrete flooring, and rubble all over the place… is it building materials?" she looked up and glanced around the ceiling. "It's really dusty, and falling down in places. There are machines against a wall. It looks like warehouse, I think…"

"Where is this warehouse?" Jasper whispered.

"I don't know… it's hazy, and some things are missing from the picture. A decision still needs to be made."

"When?"

"Soon. He'll be there today, or possibly tomorrow, but it all depends on whatever he's waiting for."

Jasper continued to question her, drawing answers out like a conductor pulling melodies out of an orchestra.

"What is he doing now?"

"He's pacing, somewhere dark."

"At the warehouse?"

"No, somewhere else. I can't see, it's too dark."

"Okay, back at the warehouse, what else is there, do you see any labels? Or signs?"

"Yes, but they're broken. He's setting up a desk, and something else, but I can't see what. He has a bag over his shoulder, and it looks like he's making another kind of decision. Mostly, though, he just waits." She shook the vision away and stared at Jasper.

"What does it mean?" I asked in a horrified whisper.

Neither of them answered me for several long moments. The air was stiff as though they weren't sure they should tell me anything.

"Don't keep me in the dark," I pleaded.

"It means the tracker's plans have changed. He's made a decision that will lead him to both wherever he is that is so dark, and also to the warehouse." Jasper sighed.

"But we don't know where those places are?"

"No. We won't know until the decision has been firmly made."

"But we do know he won't be in the mountains north of Washington being hunted." Alice's voice moaned through her teeth. "He's going to elude them."

"Should we call?" I asked. They exchanged another serious look. Jasper reached for the phone, but it rang before he could flip it open to dial.

Alice snatched it from him and lifted the receiver to her ear. She listened without speaking for an interminable amount of time before her eyes flicked briefly towards me. She was nodding silently to herself as she listened.

"Yes," she finally said. "I saw him."

After describing her vision and both the places in which she'd seen the tracker she added another thought. "Whatever made him get on that plane was leading him to those places." Another pause followed this, then she turned back to me and wordlessly handed me the phone.

"Hello?" I asked, shaking so badly I had to cup the phone to my ear by supporting it with both hands.

"Delilah," Emmett said. His voice was thin and strained.

"Emmett," I sank onto the couch. "I was so worried."

"Nah," he said flippantly. "I told you we would be fine. Don't worry about us, but listen- I am so sorry - we lost him. He's being incredibly careful!"

"I know," I murmured.

"It's like he has a sixth sense about us. He keeps just far enough ahead of us that Edward can't hear what he's thinking. Now he's gone, and it looks like he's headed back to Forks to regroup."

"Yeah, Alice saw that he got away," I answered him. Alice and Jasper were behind me speaking swiftly and quietly in a disconcerting susurrus whisper. I got up and walked away to give myself the illusion of privacy. "Where are you?"

"We're outside of Vancouver," he said gruffly. "You don't have to worry, though. He won't be able to find anything leading to you, just sit tight until we find him again."

"I'm fine," I lied. "Is anyone with Kevin?"

"Yes, Esme has been shadowing him. Carlisle has been tracking the female, and it looks like she's been digging. She went to your house once while Kevin was at work- he's been staying there instead of his house- and she went to Kevin's once as well. Carlisle even traced her though the airport, and all of the roads in and around town."

"What is she doing?"

"She's looking for your trail, but there's nothing to find. We made sure of that."

I shivered at the thought of this stranger creeping through my home, searching through my drawers, and seeking to discover my secrets. I imagined her fingers digging through the clothes in my closet, shifting the contents of my bathroom cabinets, and touching my favorite things.

"You're sure Kevin is safe?" I couldn't help the guilt I felt over dragging him into this mess. He deserved better.

"I have no doubt he will be perfectly fine, La. Esme won't let him out of her sight, and we'll be back so quickly this fucker won't have a chance to escape us again."

"I miss you," my breath hitched in my throat.

"I know, babe. Believe me, I know. I feel like I'm missing half of myself."

"Come get it, please. I'd appreciate getting my other half back, too, you know."

"Soon," he promised softly.

"I love you," I reminded him.

"I know," he said again. "I love you, too. I'll come for you soon."

"Okay," I agreed. "I'm waiting."

When I turned to give the phone back to Alice, I found her hunched over the coffee table scribbling on a piece of hotel stationery. I circled the couch to peer over the table, curious about what she could be sketching.

It was a long, open, rectangular space. Shafts of light sliced the room at odd angles from dusty windows placed high on the walls. Massive steel beams, gigantic pieces aluminum plating, and other raw construction materials seemed to make up the walls of the building. The view of the drawing was from a short side of a long rectangular space peering down toward the other end where old disused forklifts, leftover palettes, and other refuse was scattered about haphazardly. The roof was angled at the sides but flat down the middle like a barn house, and there were old signs hanging in odd spots on walls and from the ceiling. A large thick coil of rope had been pushed off to one side and apparently forgotten.

"It's a dock shipping warehouse," I said, recognizing the tools and machinery. That type of rope was really only found near boats.

They looked up at me, stunned.

"Do you know this place?" Jasper asked. His voice was steady, but I could see the tenseness in his shoulders, and across his brow. Alice's hand flew over the page, filling in small details and fleshing out the general look of the place. She filled in the letters on one of the signs; G & CO Fis. The shape of the letters looked familiar to me, and as I took in the drawing I realized where it was from.

"It's the old warehouse where Kevin worked," I said. "I used to hang out in there when I was a kid. My dad worked there too, it's how he met m-"

The pencil fell from Alice's limp fingers as she and Jasper stared at me wordlessly.

"Are you sure this is the same warehouse?"

"Not at all," I frowned down at the line drawing in concentration. "But that sign could say Hotaling & Co Fishery. It's the same font, even if the sign has been damaged."

"Would you have any reason to go there now?" Alice asked in forced calm.

"I don't see why I would," I offered. "I haven't thought about that place in years. Certainly, haven't been back there since mom moved us to Forks when I was ten. We moved to Georgia shortly after that."

"So there's no way it could be connected with you," she clarified.

"Not that I can think of. Actually, I'm pretty sure the company went out of business, which is why my uncle moved back to Forks with us when my parents got divorced."

"Where is it?"

"It's just east of the Mission, I think. We were living in the Castro around that time period."

"So definitely in San Francisco proper, close to where you used to live?"

My face went cold. "You think…" I switched gears. "Is that phone safe?"

"Yes, of course."

"Can I call my mom?"

She handed the phone to me. "Isn't she traveling?"

"Yes, but I don't know when she was supposed to get back. If I catch her, she might be able to extend her trip."

"Jasper?" Alice asked.

"Just don't mention where you are, La. We trust your mother, we just can't risk the information being discovered."

"Okay," I dialed her personal number. The trip she was currently on had her in some part of middle America on business, as far as I knew. Her personal phone wouldn't be on her, but I didn't know her work number by heart. She always checked her personal messages as soon as her meetings were over on trips like these.

The phone seemed to ring endlessly, and then finally my mother's crisp voice asked the caller to leave a voicemail.

"Mom, it's me," I began urgently. "Look, I'm okay, but I need you to call me as soon as you get this. Don't wait until you get home if you're traveling. Call me at this number as soon as you can." Alice quickly wrote the number on a hotel pad for me to recite.

Once the message had been left there was nothing to do but wait. Alice called down for more food, and I picked at it restlessly once it arrived wishing there was something we could do to make the time move faster, or at least have some news from someone.

My immortal friends seemed to have endless patience. Alice continued to sketch the rooms from her visions, while Jasper flicked through the channels on the television as though he was looking for something to watch.

I pulled my cross stitching ring back out and did my best to concentrate on that, not on the silence of the cell phone before us. At some point, it seemed better to simply sleep through the tension, so I went to the bedroom and cocooned myself in the blankets, trying very hard not to concentrate on anything until I was finally unconscious.


	21. Phone Call

**Music Note:** Game Changer, by Imelda May

**21\. PHONE CALL**

Once again, I woke disoriented and groggy. There was a fresh cup of coffee on the bedside table. Alice must have seen me waking up. I sipped it slowly, letting the bitter liquid pull me from my dream's embrace. Alice and Jasper were speaking quietly in the next room, but I didn't move to join them, choosing instead to stay curled in bed under the warm protection of the comforter.

It finally occurred to me as I finished my coffee that it was very strange the two in the living room were speaking loudly enough for me to hear them. I poked my head through the door to see what the hubbub was about and found them bent back over the coffee table staring at something intently. Faintly I heard the soft scratching of a pencil on paper and realized Alice must have had another vision.

"Did she see something else?" I padded over to them and knelt down on the opposite side of the table so I could watch what she drew.

"Yes," Jasper glanced up at me briefly. "Something brought him to the dark room where he was pacing before, but it's daylight now."

As I watched, Alice drew an oddly shaped oblong room, with a wall of windows flooding the room with natural light, a huge flat screen TV on another wall, and a small desk with a Mac computer opposite the television. In the center of the room was a round rug covered in paisley with a big chaise style lounging couch on top of it. I had a very clear memory of how heavenly that couch was after spending a week sleeping soundly on it. It was more comfortable than some of the beds I'd owned in my life.

"The front door is over there," I said, pointing to a corner of the drawing she hadn't finished, yet.

For the second time in as many days, the pencil dropped from Alice's fingers as two sets of black eyes turned slowly towards me.

"It's my mom's house," I confirmed.

Alice flew off the couch and was dialing a number into the little burner phone in an instant. I slowly sank into the space she'd vacated, wondering why my mom had never bothered to call me back. It was very unlike her. My brain started spinning quicker than I could follow. Would he really do that? Attack my mother to get to me? It didn't feel right, but why wouldn't she have called? A hand slid over my shoulders, and I felt the panic dull into a small sense of alarm. Jasper didn't say anything, but he maintained the contact to keep me from slipping away, and I was very thankful for his presence.

"Delilah?" Alice asked carefully. I looked up at her numbly. "Emmett is coming to get you."

"Okay," I mumbled, fighting the urge to snatch the phone away from her to call my mom repetitively until someone answered. Why didn't I memorize her work cell number? Why didn't I know my sister's number by heart?

"He, Carlisle, and Edward are catching the first flight out of Seattle and taking you somewhere to hide for a while."

"How is that going to help my mom?" I asked her. "He… he has my mom." Even with Jasper's talent dampening my emotions I could feel the panic bubbling away inside me.

"We don't know that. Jasper and I will find her and make sure she's safe."

"No, this is insane. No."

"No, what, La?"

"He's not tracking me. He's trying to draw me out. If this doesn't work, he'll go after my uncle or my sister, or- Jesus fucking christ- my niece or nephew."

"We won't let that happen…"

"You won't? Okay, then he'll come after you, or Jasper, or Esme. He's going to get to me some way, or sometime, no matter how far I run."

Alice looked meaningfully at Jasper and I felt my body become heavy as lead. My eyelids started to slide shut, bliss would be right around the corner.

I snapped up and took several angry steps away from both of them.

"I don't want to fucking sleep, Jasper!" I shouted and stormed out of the room where I could cry unabashedly without prying eyes. When I shut the door behind me, though, I didn't fall apart. Instead, I felt an ironclad determination. One way or another I would keep my family safe. No matter what I had to do. A plan started to form in my mind, loose pieces slowly fitting together. I tried not to concentrate on it too hard, thinking Alice wouldn't approve, but it had to be soon- before Emmett arrived, otherwise I would never get away.

My biggest roadblock would be meeting my tormentor on my own terms. Finding a way to draw him out away from the rest of the family, and away from my mother. If she was safe, I knew I could find the strength to handle the rest.

After a couple of hours of watching my thoughts circle around in my brain, I realized I definitely needed to apologize to my friends for speaking to them so badly. I roused and re-entered the living room where I found Alice tapping rapidly into the flip phone.

"What's up?" I asked her.

"Nothing," she said. "They just texted to let me know they were boarding. They'll be here in three hours." She set the phone down to approach me, giving me a tight hug.

Just three hours? I could handle that. "Where's Jasper?"

"Checking out."

"You're not staying here?"

"No," she answered distractedly as she started gathering our things to pack away. "We're relocating closer to your mom's place. If we're not already too late we can catch him out before he gets there."

The phone rang shrilly behind us. We both turned to stare at it as if it had turned into a snake.

"Who-" before I could finish the question Alice was flipping the phone open and pressing it to her ear.

"Hello?" she asked, full of apprehension. "No, she's right here. Your mom," she told me as she handed me the phone and continued packing. I shuffled backward a few paces, feeling several pounds of weight lift from my chest. With a brief thank you to the universe I lifted the phone to my ear.

"Hey," I began, but my mother cut me off almost immediately.

"Kala?! Kala!" She sounded heartbreakingly worried as she called my given name. The only time I'd heard her sound like that was right after the hearing I had to withstand in a courtroom with James. It had been a horrible day in court where we'd gotten terrible news; James had been let out on bail. We knew now it was the day he'd disappeared.

"Mom, where are you?" I tried to make my voice sound firm and reassuring, but felt it quake anyway. I walked slowly away from Alice to face a wall so she wouldn't see how hard this conversation would be. "Are you okay?"

"I'm sure she'll be just fine," a slick voice spoke ever so quietly through the speaker. The phone almost dropped from my hand. "Good morning, Kala."

I nearly shrieked and threw the phone across the room to get as far away from that voice as possible. Instead, I found myself standing very still, heart beating madly in anger. Every curse word in the book came to mind, but I knew what was coming next, so I didn't spit out any of the obscenities that were pooling in my mouth. The room began to spin around me madly as bile crawled up my throat. I pressed a palm to the wall to hold myself up.

"Be very careful not to say anything I don't tell you to, or your mother will die." He spoke so quietly I knew Alice wouldn't be able to hear it where she was packing our things up in the other room.

"Repeat after me," he continued. "No, mom, stay where you are."

"No, mom, stay where you are," I repeated through a clenched jaw.

"Please don't be difficult, La." He tutted at me. "I always liked your mom, I would hate to have to hurt her. Why don't you walk into another room so your face doesn't give you away? I know how hard it is for you to disguise what you're thinking, and there's no reason for your mother to suffer. As you're walking, please say, 'Mom please listen to me.' Say it now."

"Mom, please listen to me," I pleaded, unconvincingly. I stayed standing right where I was, propped against the wall.

"There now, are you alone? Just answer yes or no."

"Yes."

"But they can still hear you, I'm sure."

"Yes."

"All right, then," he continued. Speaking as though we were old estranged friends. "Say, 'Mom, trust me.'"

"Mom, trust me," I coughed out, not bothering to hide the fact that I was crying, tears streaming from my eyes in a torrent.

"This worked out rather better than I expected. I was prepared to wait, but your mother arrived ahead of schedule. It's easier this way, isn't it? Less suspense, less anxiety for you. I know how you tend to feel anxious when you don't know what's going to happen."

Another volley of curses came very close to spilling out of my mouth but I swallowed them and waited.

"Now I want you to listen very carefully. I'm going to need you to get away from your friends; do you think you can do that? Answer yes or no."

"Yes," no matter what I had to do, I would find a way.

"That's better. I'm sure it won't be easy, but if I get the slightest hint that you have any company, well, that would be very bad for your mother," he promised as though he were offering a guarantee on very good weather for a picnic. "You must know enough about us by now to realize how quickly I would know if you tried to bring anyone along with you. And how little time I would need to deal with your mother if that was the case. Do you understand? Answer yes or no."

"Yes," _you motherfucking piece of shit._

"Very good, La! I knew I could count on you. You've always been so clever. Now, this is what I want you to do. I want you to go to your mother's house. There will be a number on the fridge. Call it, and I'll tell you where to go." Of course, I already knew where he would tell me to go; already knew where this would end, but I would follow his instructions exactly, for the sake of my mother's life. "Can you do that? Answer yes or no."

"Yes."

"Before noon, please, La. I haven't got all day," he said snidely. "It's important, now, that you don't make your new friends suspicious when you go back to them. Tell them that your mother called and that you talked her out of coming home for the time being. Now repeat after me, 'Thank you, Mom.' Say it now."

"Thank you, Mom." I sniffed loudly, as my tears had caused a massively runny nose.

"Say, 'I love you, Mom, I'll see you soon.' Say it now."

"I love you, Mom." My voice was like cracked earth. "I'll see you soon," I promised.

"Goodbye, Kala. I look forward to seeing you again." He hung up.

I stood silently in my corner for a while, staring at the wall, wondering what on earth I could possibly tell Alice.

"La?" I heard her call from the bedroom. "Is everything okay?"

I turned to her, still feeling at a loss, when the little phone vibrated in my hand, the ring coming a fraction of a second later. I stared down at the tiny thing in complete bemusement, then turned my gaze on Alice. Her brow was puckered tightly in confusion- she hadn't been expecting this call either. Slowly I lifted the phone back to my ear.

"Hello?" I asked hesitantly.

"La? Is that you?" My mother's voice cracked like a whip in a combination of fear, and frustration. "What's going on, are you okay?"

I slumped to the floor, gripping the phone to my face with both hands in complete disbelief.

"Mom?" I sobbed.

"Yes, of course! What's going on? Where are you?"

"Why didn't you call me back?" I asked her, knowing it was the wrong question but not knowing where to start.

"Oh baby," her voice turned quiet and sounded broken. "I'm at a work retreat in Milwaukee, no phone allowed, of course. When I got back to the hotel it was dead so I left it to charge overnight, didn't get your messages until about an hour ago."

"Oh…"

"I talked to Kevin," she offered. "Tell me where you are."

"I'm safe," I said. "That's all I can say right now."

"You're running?"

"Yeah," I said, still stunned she was safe in Milwaukee. I'd nearly walked into a trap.

"You can't run forever, baby."

"I know, Momma," I told her. "Hey, listen, it's not safe for you in S.F. right now. Can you stay in Milwaukee until I tell you it's safe to go back?"

"What do you mean it's not safe? I have to go back to work, I can't stay out here."

"You have P.T.O. saved up, right? Why don't you go see Eleanor and the kids?"

"For how long?"

"Not long," I told her, as a plan started to percolate. I looked up at Alice as I thought, knowing she would be reading my every move. She shook her head at me firmly. _No fucking way,_ she mouthed. "Is Roger still in Japan?" I asked, speaking of my stepdad.

"Yeah, he's there another two weeks," she said.

"Good. Go see Nora," I repeated. "Please, I just need to know you're safe."

"Okay," she agreed, reluctantly. "I will. Will you come to meet us?"

"Thank you," I said, ignoring her question. "Mom, I love you so much."

"I love you, too, Kala."

"I'll call you when I can." I hung up before she could answer me, knowing my willpower was about to break. Alice was watching me intently, probably wondering how I would make my escape. The only thing was, I didn't need to escape, anymore. We had an advantage and we needed to make use of it. I tossed the phone to Alice and climbed to my feet.

"Where are you going?" she asked, popping up to follow me.

"I just need a human moment," I answered her and shut the door to the bedroom between us. Once inside I headed straight for the table by the windows. There was another hotel stationary set there, with a convenient, branded pen. I sat down and started writing. If all my plans failed, I needed Emmett to know how I felt. I poured all of my heart onto that tiny scrap of paper, thinking there could never be enough paper, enough time, or even enough words to communicate to Emmett how I felt. I asked him to forgive Alice and Jasper, I asked him to forgive me, but mostly I asked him to forgive himself for not stopping me.

I folded the paper into a heart shape and wrote his name on the outside, just like I used to do for my friends in high school. Alice would give it to him, I knew she would. The next most important thing would be to convince her to go along with this harebrained idea of mine. Jasper would see it my way, I just needed to sell it.

Jasper had returned when I re-entered the living room. He was watching Alice watch the future, and I realized she must be seeing my plan. I wondered how it all turned out.

"How does that work?" I asked her. "The things you see? Emmett said it wasn't definite… that things could change?"

"Yes, things change," she murmured. I could tell she was still confused about whatever she'd been seeing when I walked into the room. "Some things are more certain than others… like the weather. People are harder. I only see the course they're on while they're on it. Once they change their minds—make a new decision, no matter how small—the whole future shifts."

That sounded frustrating, but it explained why she saw vampires so much clearer, as she described them as almost immutable.

"So you couldn't see-" my voice caught on the name. "Any of us in San Francisco until _he_ decided to come here."

"Yes," she agreed, wary again.

"I see," I nodded, then decided to go for it. "I have an idea."

"No," Alice said immediately.

"Hear me out," I protested.

"No, absolutely not."

"What is it?" Jasper asked, looking back and forth between us.

"Delilah wants to offer herself up as bait."

"Ohh," Jasper breathed, and just as I expected, he didn't look opposed to the idea. His lack of reticence gave me a small boost of confidence.

"I don't know what you're seeing, but it _could_ work! Let's talk about this, at least! One of you may have a great idea that will push the outcome in our favor."

"No," she said again, then, "Jasper stop. No matter what we decide, Emmett will not agree to it."

"Emmett isn't here," I pointed out.

"We can't risk it, regardless of any probable outcome."

"You heard my mom!" I yelled. "I can't run forever. He'll get to someone, whether it's my sister or one of you! We have to _do_ something!"

"We won't let him get near anyone," she shook her head.

"What," I said scathingly. "You're going to spend the next sixty years protecting a group of scattered humans? Doesn't that seem silly?"

"Jasper," she moaned.

"If we time it right she won't be in any danger," he argued. "I can't help think about it."

"You're not just thinking about it if I'm seeing it."

"It's a good idea," he said, defending himself.

"Fine," Alice rolled her eyes. "Tell me."


	22. Hide & Seek

**22\. HIDE & SEEK**

The Cullen family was flying into San Francisco International, a fairly busy airport which was crucial to make the beginning of this plan work. There was no way to know if James had any other accomplices, no way to know how many eyes were following us, so we had to make it look real. We also had to make sure Emmett wouldn't catch up with me too quickly.

"I wrote him a letter," I slipped the folded heart into Alice's palm as we got out of the car at the airport. "You know, just in case."

She shook her head with a look of impatience. This is why I had waited to give it to her. It would have been a bad idea to lecture me out where anyone could hear us. With a frustrated sigh, she pocketed the note and escorted me swiftly into the domestic terminals. We all but flew toward the arrivals lounge, past food stalls, and coffee shops, wiggling our way through the mass of hurried bodies.

"Are you hungry? We have some time to get you some food," Alice offered, gesturing toward the many stalls around us.

My stomach lurched at the thought. "No, thank you."

We sat on a set of benches in front of the arrivals board where we could watch the flight numbers slowly move up the list. I let the peace Jasper's presence offered sink into my muscles, allowing my mind to concentrate on the tasks at hand. My companions discussed the pros and cons of each of the available flights out of the city. They mentioned my lack of a passport and lamented the necessity of staying in the country, but we didn't need passports for Puerto Rico, and from there we could take a boat anywhere.

I shifted uncomfortably in my seat as the minutes flew by. Emmett's flight was creeping closer and closer to the top of the list. As his flight came nearer, it was almost as if I could feel his closeness in every atom of my body. I yearned for him fiercely, making it even harder to leave. Excuses formed in my mind; if we had everyone here together we could surround the warehouse and get James cornered, but I knew he would still find a way to slip out and we would be back at square one. Alice offered to buy me breakfast several more times, but I continued to decline. My stomach was entirely too caught up in knots to have space for food.

The minutes ticked by. My eyes felt like sandpaper, gritty, and crusted with exhaustion. Emmett's flight reached the top of the board as I watched. He was on the ground.

"I think I'll eat now!" I exclaimed too loudly. Jasper stood up wordlessly, putting a hand on my lower back, helping to keep me calm. This was the part that would be difficult to make believable, partially because I could easily get lost, but mostly because… how did one slip past a vampire? Jasper and I walked back the way we'd come toward a coffee stand that was in a sort of kiosk nestled between a set of bathrooms, with an escalator across the hall. As we came upon it I veered toward the bathroom, not bothering to hide my panic.

"I'll just be a minute!" I said, voice just a little too high, and ducked inside. I stood just beyond the door for long enough to let Jasper get in line at the coffee stand, then snuck out, darting toward the escalator behind him. He didn't look up, but I know he must have heard me. How could he not? I ran down the steps, out the sliding door, turned right, then bolted up the path back toward the terminal two arrivals door. Inside, I ran back up an escalator, dashed to the left, back out another set of sliding doors, then bolted across the road toward the hotel shuttles. One was just finished loading, by some divine grace, so I jumped inside without looking for a destination, breathing heavily.

The other passengers looked at me curiously but didn't ask any questions. I tapped the pole I was clinging to nervously, staring through the windows for glimpses of Jasper's blonde hair following me. It would take at least another twenty minutes for Emmett's plane to taxi and unload. Longer, if I had any luck. If our calculations were correct when we were planning this hairbrained idea, I should have an hour and twenty minutes, all told, to get to my mother's house and to the warehouse before Emmett caught up with me.

Finally, the bus pulled off and I relaxed. Step one seemed to have worked out, but step two could be problematic as it was based entirely on timing. I pulled my personal phone out of my pocket, turned it on, and quickly navigated to my favorite rideshare app. This particular service allowed a client to pre-set a pick-up time at a location of their choosing. With the help of poles, and rope hand holds, I made my way to the front of the bus where I caught the driver's attention.

"Excuse me," I said as calmly as I could. "What hotel are we going to?"

"You okay, lady?" He asked giving me a quick up and down look before turning back towards the road. I could imagine what he was seeing; a mildly frantic young woman, hair a mess, probably too pale in the face with sweat pooling along her upper lip, and wide, wild staring eyes. I must look a fright.

"Yes, just a little lost." I cleared my throat and did my best to sound normal.

He harrumphed but answered with the name and street of the hotel we were headed for.

"How long will it take to get there?"

"About ten minutes."

"Thank you," I said, and quickly tapped all the information into the app for my rideshare and set the pick-up time for exactly ten minutes from the time showed on my clock. Hopefully both the bus driver and the rideshare driver would be punctual and I could jump from the bus directly into the car.

Luck was with me. Upon my arrival, a green Nissan Rogue was waiting patiently in the hotel roundabout. I flew off the bus, pushing people out of the way in my haste and bolted for the car. The Rogue driver watched me climb in with a small frown. He was probably thinking he'd picked up a crazy woman. I shut the door firmly behind me and clicked my seatbelt home.

"Delilah?" he asked over his shoulder.

"Yes, yes," I flapped my hands toward his gaze in the rearview. "I'm so sorry, but I'm, running late and I know we have a bit of a drive ahead, can we…?"

"Of course," he focused on pulling out of the hotel parking lot and didn't say another word.

As we pulled away I imagined Emmett finally meeting up with Alice in the airport. I imagined Edward reading all the information out of Alice's head, and communicating it to Emmett while she pleaded for patience. I imagined his thunderous anger at the news. Then I thought about how worried Emmett would be, how worried_ I_ was one of us would get hurt.

By the time I arrived at the warehouse, it would be right around noon and I would only need to keep James occupied for a few minutes before the family caught up with me. Jasper would already be there, hidden. Assuming everything went to plan.

I sat back in the seat trying to keep myself calm for the thirty minutes it would take to get to the Mission. My fingers itched to text Emmett, but I knew it would only make this separation harder. I turned my phone off to deter the temptation. To keep my mind busy, I tried to imagine what it would have been like if I hadn't come up with this insane plan, what it would have felt like to see him one more time, to wrap my arms around his waist and listen to him chuckle through his chest. Tears slipped past my closed lids. If this didn't work, I would never hear that wonderful sound again.

My mother's house was centered in the Mission district on South Van Ness Avenue. The rideshare driver pulled up to what looked like an ugly little bungalow painted a garish blue color. It was the only house-style building on an otherwise fairly industrial block and was looped with a tall metal fence that gave it quite a forbidding appearance. Inside, I knew, was a maze of beautiful rooms filled with plenty of natural light. The house seemed to tumble backwards and downwards from the front door through two stories finally ending at a tiered wooden deck surrounded with trees. I'd told her she was crazy for spending so much money on a house in the City… until I saw it, and then I couldn't help but love it myself.

I shut the door to the Rogue and mounted the sidewalk. It wasn't until I approached the little box on the gate that it occurred to me she might have changed the code since I'd last been there. With shaking fingers I pressed 050607, and let out a yelp of glee when the box buzzed loudly and the gate clicked open. I took a second to bless my sister for having a kid with such a memorable birthday before ducking inside.

The key to the front door was in a lockbox stuck to the wall behind a potted plant. This code was the same as the one for the gate. I entered it, jamming my fingers into each button until the key fell out into my hand. The door opened easily, and suddenly I was inside. I looked around slowly, wondering how long James had been here, what he had touched. Everything in view seemed to be perfectly in place. There was no evidence anyone had been there at all.

The phone number he'd promised was written directly on to the fridge with a dry-erase marker in a cramped, violent hand. I stared at it, recognizing the hateful way he wrote the number four with exaggerated points, and feeling an overwhelming urge to vomit.

Next to the fridge, still on the charger was my mother's personal phone. I picked it up and hit the home button to unlock it. How many times had I told her to password protect it? I navigated over to the voicemail section and saw that my voicemail had been listened to twice. Once for my mother, once for James. That's how he had gotten the burner cell number. I clenched my eyes shut in anger. If I'd been able to call her work cell none of this would have happened.

Of course, it was also possible that without those two phone calls I would be on the ocean halfway to god-knows-where and he would have gotten to my mother anyway. If that had happened I wouldn't have been able to get back in time to save her. This was better.

I took a deep, steadying breath and dialed the number written on the fridge into my mother's phone. It rang once, and again, and a third time. He was playing with me.

"Hello, La!" His voice was cheerful, exuberant, even. I didn't answer. "I wasn't sure you were going to be able to get away from your bodyguards! I've gotta say I'm impressed."

"Is my mom okay?" I asked, playing my part.

"You've accomplished your end of the deal, so far. I've kept mine as well. Don't worry, La, I have no quarrel with her. As long as you come alone she'll remain with the living." The way he spoke sounded like an announcer giving out a prize.

"I'm alone." It wasn't even a lie.

"Wonderful," he said enthusiastically. "Now do you remember how to get to the shipping warehouse where your mom and dad met?"

"Yes," I said through stiff lips.

"Great! I'll see you very soon." He hung up before I could respond.

I set my mother's phone down and walked slowly for the door. Now that it was all set there didn't seem to be a need to hurry to my death. Meticulously, I locked the front door behind me, opened my rideshare app to request a ride, then made sure the gate locked behind me as I stepped out to wait for the car.

When I got in the car I didn't bother watching the house grow smaller behind me. I had no history there. Instead, I spent the ten minute ride to Hotaling & Co reliving my favorite memories with my family, trying envision my sister's smile, or my niece's favorite dance. I was never going to see them again, I realized. One way or another, my life was over. I wished ardently that I'd gotten just one more phone call. One last "I love you."

The pier came slowly into view, then disappeared behind the buildings of a large industrial complex. The car rolled to a stop at the opening of a private drive and I got out. The pier was just down this lane, behind the spattering of buildings.

"Is this right?" the driver asked me. He didn't seem to want to leave me alone in what was clearly an industrial zone.

"Yep, I'm meeting my mother," I explained. "She works here."

He didn't protest, but he watched me get out of his car and didn't pull away until I was too far away to hear him leave.

I walked down the private lane, through scattered parking lots, and trucks pulled up to loading bays at various roll-up doors. The lane curved toward the water until it dumped out on to a long pier with several berths branching off from the sides. A few of these were still in use. Several people nodded at me as I made my way toward the furthest berth along the pier. The warehouse sat at the end of this berth that had clearly been abandoned since some time in the 90's.

There were no other cars, trucks, or people now, and far too much space in between for anyone to hear me scream. I wondered where Jasper was hiding, if he was watching my death march. Emmett must be on his way with Carlisle and Edward by now. For a second I considered stalling, to give him more time, but James would know what I was doing and it would narrow my chance of survival.

The building seemed to be locked closed from all sides. I walked over to the far corner and found a door with a broken handle. This was my entrance. Inside there was a small office containing a decrepit desk still stacked with forgotten paperwork. A broken filing cabinet stood in the corner, dented on one side, and haphazardly leaning against a wall. The entire room was covered with graffiti tags. A window behind the desk should have shown a view of the entire warehouse, but it was too dusty to see through. To the right of the window was a door that led into the greater warehouse. It was open an inch as if it were beckoning me closer.

I stared at the door, unwilling to move forward. My feet were frozen with terror, my limbs locked and immobile.

"Kala?! Kala!" My mother's voice sounded through the crack in the door. How was he doing that? Where did he get her voice? Curiosity forced my feet forward in hesitant steps. Through the door, I found a laptop and a speaker set up on a desk a little ways into the open space. James was nowhere in sight.

"You're okay, baby," my mother's voice said firmly. "I've got you."

Although I already knew what I would see, I rounded the desk to watch the rest of the scene unfold. It was a video of the day James escaped. It was raining. My mother and I had left the courthouse with my lawyer to find the press waiting. I'd fallen back at the encroaching crowd of cameras and microphones to let my mother handle the questions. As I stepped back, James' lawyer stepped aside allowing James to catch my elbow. He'd squeezed me so tightly I couldn't get away without making a scene. James held me, malicious smile on his face as he watched me lose my carefully controlled emotions.

I stood outside the courtroom feeling like the world stopped moving, water droplets pausing in their fall. I remembered there being no sound like we'd stepped into a dampening field. There was no one in the world but me and him, and he was gloating.

"This isn't over," he'd whispered. "I'll find you."

Right then, for all the world to see, I'd broken. Panic washed over me as the world returned to motion, and I lost my ability to stand. My mother had turned in time to see me falling and had caught me, calling out my name in fear. The press had eaten it up, my fall had been on every local news channel for over a week.

For weeks afterward, I'd stayed shacked up in my sister's house, too distraught to return to my former life. Eventually, hard as it was, I forced myself to start rebuilding. I moved in with my best friend, registered for classes at Georgia State, pointedly spent time with my friends, gotten a steady job, and generally did my best to live my life. I almost made it too, with copious amounts of therapy. It wasn't until the date for the trial was upon us that we discovered James was missing. His lawyer had kept it a secret for over 6 months.

Around this time flowers started to show up to the bar where I worked, notes started appearing on my windshield when I left class in the afternoon. Strange numbers called my phone and left long messages containing only breathing. I endured months of this, living in fear, never knowing when he might resurface. When gifts started showing up at my house, my best friend and roommate had enough, she cut me off to protect herself and left me in the cold. Fear for my life brought on a strength I never imagined I contained; I rallied. I got my name changed, packed my meager belongings, shut all of my accounts, borrowed money from my mother, and fled.

It should have worked. Why couldn't it be enough? I shut the laptop before the video finished, feeling my throat close, choked with fear.

"Where are you?" I whispered, knowing he would hear me.

"Here," he said conversationally. I spun to find him leaning against a pole in the middle of the space. We stared at each other. He looked the same in almost every way. His eyes were the deep black of thirst, but his brows slashed across his brow in the same way, hands rested on hips with the same confidence, knee cocked at exactly the same angle I remembered. That smile was the same one I remembered, too, both charming and malicious at the once. My gut roiled as my tormentor walked toward me slowly. In the strange way panicked brains pick out odd details I noticed he still wasn't wearing shoes, and vaguely wondered if he'd gotten on the plane barefoot.

"Sorry for deceiving you, La, but isn't it better your mother didn't have to be involved in any of this?" His voice was also as I remembered, but silkier. It better disguised the psychosis that lurked underneath.

"Yes," I said, honestly.

"You're not angry I tricked you?"

"No," I answered, truthfully.

"Well, that's wonderful news!" he exclaimed with a small laugh. "And here I was so worried our reunion would be marred with anger." He shook his head.

"This 'reunion,'" I fanned my fingers around the word, "is marred by far more than just anger. You narcissistic a- "

"Aww," he interrupted sadly. "How could you say something so vile to the lover that only wants what's best for you?"

"You stopped being my lover the moment you hit me," I snapped. "The moment you isolated me, manipulated me."

"Oh, come now!" He took a step closer. I mirrored him with a step back and caught up on the desk. I started to sidle round it. "I couldn't let you go unpunished for spending so much time with all those other people. What's a man to do?"

"A man is _not_ to tie up and rape a woman for any reason, you psycho."

He made a moue with his mouth but didn't answer.

"How did you find me?" I asked.

He laughed. "Oh! Now, that _was_ difficult. You're very clever, you know. Staying in all of those busy cities. I tracked you as far as Chicago. I guess that's where you bought a new car? It got harder after that because I didn't know where you were going. By the time I found your friends in St. Louis, your trail had gone cold."

The breath left my body. "You found…"

"Don't worry, they're fine." He casually brushed away my concern for my friends with a flick of his head. "They didn't know anything useful, and I couldn't risk news getting back to you had they been injured."

It had been stupid to stay with friends. I should have known better.

"I started digging into your past and discovered you had an uncle in Forks. Why didn't you ever tell me that? Was it because it's such an awful place? Very sneaky of you. Speaking of sneaky, how on earth did you escape that lumbering oaf you've been spending your time with?" He tutted at me. "I can't imagine he would let you out of his sight with your reputation for spectacular disappearances."

This was dangerous territory. There was no way I'd be able to speak about any of the Cullens, especially Emmett, without giving something away.

I tried to answer indirectly. "I snuck," I said shortly.

"I must say I'm a bit disappointed," he took a few lazy steps toward me. My feet shuffled against the dusty floor as I moved quickly backwards. "I expected this to be far more difficult, but in the end, all I needed was a half-cocked plan and a little luck."

I watched him anxiously, hoping my silence would goad him into a longer speech.

"When Victoria couldn't get to your uncle, I had her search each of your houses for any other information that might give us some direction. After all, what was the point of tracking you all over the world, when I could just have you come to me instead? So after I talked to Victoria, I decided to pay your dear mother a visit. It seemed unlikely you would come here after saying so in my hearing, but you are anything but predictable, La. So I took a chance and got on a plane to California.

"When I got to your mother's house I found she'd so helpfully left her phone here, unlocked, no less, and was able to get your number. Her computer was equally accessible, allowing me to go through some of her files on those ridiculous charges you brought against me. How could you do that to me, La? After everything I gave you? I loved you, and you repay me by pressing assault charges? I told you I was sorry, why wasn't that good enough?" He shook his head sadly.

"Anyway, that's where I found that gem of a video. Still, I wasn't sure what I would do with all of these tools. You could easily be anywhere in the world.

"Then Victoria called to inform me that oaf you call a boyfriend jumped on a plane right after me, and I knew you must be here. After that, it was a simple bluff. You see? All too easy, so I genuinely hope your friends attempt to avenge you, just to make it a little more interesting for me."

He was trying to incite me into an argument. It was a tactic he'd been fond of using before his transition, and I was well equipped to deal with it now.

"How did you become a vampire?" I asked instead of rising to his challenge.

"How did _you_ fall in with vampires?" he countered.

"On accident, obviously. How did you?" I snapped at him for the second time, then scolded myself for the loss of control. Patience was key. I needed to keep him interested in my answers for as long as possible. If I made him too angry he could attack before we were ready.

"Well, _not_ on accident for me, as it turns out! At least not on my creator's part." James smiled again, his lips pulling back over shiny teeth. It may have been my imagination, but they looked sharper than I remembered. "I actually have you to thank for that, La. He saw the interview I just replayed for you and became interested in my abilities. He thought I showed promise, that he could hone my skill and make me his weapon…" James seemed to lose himself in thought for a moment.

"Did he?" I asked quietly. "Make you a weapon?"

"Yes, he did," he purred. "I was already looking for you, of course, back in Atlanta. I'd heard you moved, but I couldn't discover where. None of our mutual friends were willing to tell me. I assume you avoided signing a lease with that she-bitch you were living with?"

I nodded mutely.

"Yes, well, your ruse may have worked if Alastor, my creator, hadn't found me. He caught me after a night at the bar where I'd been trying to butter up your former co-workers. The last thing I remember was leaving; there was no noise, no time for terror. The next thing I knew I was in immense pain until I wasn't. When I woke Alastor explained what he'd done, taught me everything he knew, and coached me through finding you.

"He was also a talented tracker, though nowhere near as good as I am. He and I were kindred spirits, you see. In his early years he'd found the perfect prize; a girl that smelled so perfectly delectable he couldn't resist, only somehow she was whisked away from him, right under his nose. It took him several years to find her again, hidden away in an insane asylum for her visions. Lucky really, a hundred years earlier and she would have been burned at the stake for a witch. In the '20's, though, they made due with dark holes for cells and shock therapy." He laughed again, bringing another wave of sickness through me.

"By the time he found her an orderly that had taken a liking to her had stolen her away in the night, making this the second time Alastor had lost his prize. Only this orderly had his own secrets, he was special like Alastor was. In a misguided attempt to save her life, the orderly did what your Emmett couldn't bring himself to do- he turned her, and once that was done Alastor had no use for her. He killed the orderly in revenge, obviously, but it never assuaged his longing.

"Losing that girl was the greatest disappointment of Alastor's existence, as he told it. He even used to carry a picture of her around with him in his breast pocket. 'The one that got away,'" James snickered. There was a sharp edge to the laughter that showed a glint of mania.

"You can imagine my surprise when I saw that little waif of a girl amongst your new friends. A little thing like that, I recognized her immediately."

_Alice?_ I thought, appalled. "What happened to Alastor?"

"I killed him," James said simply. I swallowed visibly.

"So then you came to find me?" I asked, shaken. _Keep him talking._

"Yes, I ran to Forks," he smiled, now warm to his story. "There was no way for me to know for sure if you were still there. I planned on visiting your uncle's house for information, then deciding what to do from there. I even managed to pick up some friends along the way."

"Victoria and Laurent."

"Even so," he agreed.

"Victoria can't like you chasing after another woman," I said hopelessly.

"Victoria," James savored the name. "Is a very understanding partner. She has been extremely supportive in this endeavor. Besides, she knows you won't live past today, anyway. Though I will certainly attempt to enjoy you for as long as I can."

"Why?" I asked, feebly. "Why did you come all this way, why are you doing this?"

"You were _mine_," he said viciously, snarling through his teeth. "And you keep running away from me." He crouched into a hunting pose; knees bent, arms out and ready. He tilted his head and peered at me through narrowed eyes. "Why aren't you running now?"

"Don't…" I tried.

"RUN!" He barked, and to my shame, I did.


	23. Survival

**Music Note:** Hold Me Tight, Foggy Mountain Rockers, and Pain, by Tiger Army

**23\. SURVIVAL**

James had a hold of me before I'd made it two steps. His forceful grip sent a painful jolt through my spine that made me scream raggedly. In a moment I was flying, having been bodily thrown down the length of the warehouse. I landed on my side and slid backward until I was stopped by a pile of rubble at the back of the room.

In another instant, he was lifting me up by the shoulders until we were face to face. His breath puffed into my nose and mouth as he spoke, forcing me to take it in. I choked, drowning in his scent, unable to take a breath clear of the pungent odor. It carried a sickly sweetness reminiscent of rotting vegetation and cooked wine. I gagged and scratched at his fingers locked around my upper arms, trying to force them open.

"You will never get away from me again." His declaration was ferociously punctuated with a violent shake at each word. My head snapped back and forth, brain pounding against the inside of my skull. A pain behind my forehead began to throb and ache as he shook me. The force of it could give me a concussion, but if someone didn't intervene soon that would be the least of my problems.

My stomach dropped through the soles of my feet as I was suddenly airborne again. I shut my eyes tightly, waiting for the impact. It came quicker than expected. I hit the wall with a resounding bang from the aluminum plating and slid down the wall. The edges of the plating caught and tore my skin into long gashes that wept blood. I hit the floor and crumpled into the detritus at the base of the wall. When I tried to take a breath to force myself up and run, no air came- the wind had been knocked out of me.

Gasping, a crawled frantically away, nails scrabbling on the concrete, feet kicking out uselessly behind me.

"No you don't," came James' amused voice as he approached my prone figure. I looked up just in time to see him raise a foot to stomp down on my leg, but a blur of motion intercepted him, throwing him across the warehouse. Jasper had finally intervened. He was dripping wet, hair plastered to the sides of his face, crouched low before me. He must have been hiding below water to minimize the chance of James detecting him.

Jasper's interference gave me time to take stock of my injuries. Blood was flowing freely from my arms where they had been cut along the aluminum, there was a sharp pain in my right side every time I breathed indicating a broken rib, and my right ear was ringing.

James launched himself at Jasper, keeping low to the ground in order to take Jasper's legs out from under him. James missed the first time but was able to catch himself, make a quick turn and relaunch. This second effort was successful. Jasper hit the ground hard enough to crack the concrete. James used the chance to kick Jasper solidly in the gut with enough force to send my rescuer clear across the room and bury him in a pile of rubble.

James reached for me again as I tried to scamper away, but paused abruptly, looking towards the door. I couldn't hear them but assumed the others must have just arrived making enough noise to alert James to their presence.

"You lied," he snarled, and caught me up, throwing me over his shoulder. With a woosh, James jumped to the steel rafters above us, carrying me with him.

"Let her go," a voice called. That voice sent warmth and hope racing through my limbs. It was so familiar and so dear and far too good to be true. Emmett's usual musical gravel was closer to a snarl with more anger than I could have imagined. "Let her go, right now," Emmett shouted.

"Why would I give up my toy so easily?" James sneered. I looked down to see four vampires standing in a loose circle below us. The position James had put me in over his shoulder was putting pressure on my broken rib. I wanted to scream or at least cry at the pain, but I couldn't breathe. "Why would I give her up when I could just kill her here?" He lifted me from his shoulder just enough to give me a solid shake. The cry I'd been unable to release trickled out of me in a pitiful exhale. I sounded like a wounded animal.

James swept me off his shoulder to cradle me into his chest. Holding me with one arm he used his other to lift my scraped up forearm to his mouth. Without taking his eyes from Emmett, James licked the blood from my inner elbow to wrist. He moaned in audible in pleasure and his grip tightened. Another rib cracked loudly as he squeezed me.

"Stop!" I recognized this voice as Alice's. She sounded a lot more frightened than she was supposed to. Did something change? Did she have another vision?

An explosion came from behind us. Glass flew in all directions, metal tearing in a deafening cacophony as we were hit from the side. Edward had snuck around the outside of the building and come in through the window. Jumping through it in a spectacular crash. James shifted sideways just in time. Edward flew past and caught himself on the next rafter over. Clutching me tightly to his chest, James jumped toward the ground as Edward made another attempt at a tackle.

The others were ready. As soon as James hit the ground we were being attacked from all angles. All the movement was far too fast for me to comprehend, but it was obvious James was losing the battle. He turned, and jumped, and flipped from side to side, staying just out of their reach until Emmett finally got his hands on one of James' shoulders and squeezed. The sound of a boulder cracking echoed through the warehouse. James screeched in rage, but the broken shoulder had done its job- I was free of him.

Smaller, friendlier hands gripped me and I was whisked away from the fighting vampires. Alice stood before me, quickly checking me over, ensuring I had no life-threatening injuries before turning to join her family in the fight.

James was incredibly quick even with one dead arm. Multiple times he was able to slip through their grasp at the last second, inching his way closer to me. I could see what he was doing, but was unable to communicate. Alice was working to maneuver behind him, but it was obvious from my angle that he would get to me first. She also seemed to be aware of this, and was making quick frantic movements.

Just as I predicted James made a perfectly timed pivot that placed himself in grabbing distance of me. He snatched me up and away from the others, landing out of immediate reach. Using his higher ground as leverage, and the pillar behind him as a support he launched me forcefully back toward the rubble piled against the back wall. All in the same second Alice screamed and darted forward to intercept me, Esme chased after Alice, and just a step behind her was Carlisle, practically on Esme's heels. James used the distraction to launch himself directly at Emmett.

I watched as Emmett turned toward me, eyes wide with disbelief and agony, no longer paying attention to his foe. James' hands reached out to grab Emmett's head, rictus of anger twisting his features. Everyone's movements were unnaturally slow. I could see the force James was putting onto Emmett's head. In another second James would have it ripped from his shoulders.

My movements continued in real time. I landed backwards with a soft thwump against the rubble. A pain in my stomach flared brightly, blocking out all other senses and I looked down to see a lead pole forcing its way out of my body.

The rubble I'd landed in was a mish-mash pile of construction materials- mostly slabs of concrete, siding, rope, and drywall. James had thrown me back hard enough to force this pipe that was jutting out at exactly the right angle through my abdomen, it was likely piercing my stomach. He had aimed for a slow death, probably hoping he could kill the family in their distraction and come back for me.

Everything narrowed to a tiny pinprick. The only sound I could hear was my own weight dislodging the rubble, the only thing I could see was my torn stomach. I gaped at it for a moment, entirely unable to accept what was happening.

Once I was able to tear my gaze away from my own demise, I saw Esme, Carlisle, and Alice all looking at me in horror. Behind them James was still midflight in the process of tackling Emmett, hands still clasped around Emmett's head, but not yet twisting to complete the final blow. Jasper was on the other side of James, too far to help Emmett, and Edward was hanging from the rafters ready to drop down on top of James. None of them were moving.

"Hello?" I asked. No response. "Help?" I tried instead. Again, no response. Something had frozen each of them in place just as I'd landed.

"Alice!" I shouted but still saw no movement. What could have caused them to freeze up like that? I couldn't think straight, maybe I was already dead and this was my hell. I tried to move, but the pain from the pipe left my limbs weak and trembling.

"Please! Someone!" I howled, endorphins kicking in. "Help me!"

_I'm going to die,_ I thought, and then immediately refused to accept it. There had to be a way out of this. There must be some explanation for their frozen state. I started to force my brain into action. What did I currently know? I knew if I forced myself off this pole I would bleed out faster, so it needed to stay in until someone could stop the bleeding. I knew that in a trash pile like this, it probably wasn't attached to anything. Maybe, if I could move some of this rubble I could take the piping with me and find help. If I was able to do that, I probably had a few minutes before I passed out from blood loss, but I would be dead soon after that.

Carefully reaching behind myself I shifted a piece of concrete. The movement jarred the pipe, and for a moment all I could do was wail and weep. I tried again, and again, bawling through the entire process until I felt something dislodge and I was able to move my body forward, pipe included.

With utmost care, using only my arms to support my weight, I slid off the rubble and on to the concrete. Once down, I slid along the floor, one hand keeping the pipe from moving, the other pulling my body forward. There was no distance in the world greater than the five feet between myself and Alice.

The distance stretched as I crawled. I wept forcefully, tears mixing with drool, blood, and snot as it all dribbled from my body to pool below me. I continued to drag myself forward, smearing the gore beneath my hip as I passed through it. My hands were becoming too slick to grip the concrete, my vision grew dim.

"Alice," I whispered desperately as I reached her. She was wearing Doc Martens and shorts that left her leg exposed. I concentrated on her leg above her sock and reached for her. I gripped her leg leaving a bloody handprint the stood out against the brilliant alabaster of her flesh. As soon as my hand made contact she leaped to life, resuming the sprint she'd been in before she froze.

"La?" she came to a stop on top of rubble right in front of where I landed on the pipe. Seeing I was no longer there, she spun frantically and found me sprawled on the concrete. "What is… oh my god!" She darted back over and picked me up. As gentle as she was, the pain of being lifted may have killed me right there.

"NO!" I cried.

"It's okay, you're going to be okay." She was frantically moving in the wrong direction- away from Emmett.

"No, stop," I moaned. Alice was running toward the exit, leaving the family behind. "You have to help Emmett. James…"

She turned to see the eerie scene of frozen vampires mid-battle. "What happened?" She asked.

"Save me later," was all I could get out. It didn't matter what had happened. This was her chance to end this once and for all.

For a fraction of a second, she stood between the door and my attacker, undecided, then lowered me to the floor.

"I won't let you die, La. You're going to be okay."

"I trust you," I whispered.

"Keep your heart beating, I'll be right back."

I watched in grim satisfaction as she bolted back toward James, leaped onto his back, and tore his head clean from his shoulders. The sound of it was astoundingly loud, like a rockslide down a deep canyon. She threw his head casually over her shoulder and moved to his arms. Alice ripped both of James's arms off in one easy motion and tossed them on top of his lolling head.

I must have passed out because my vision went fuzzy for what felt like a second, but when I came to Alice was gone and I was clutching onto something very cold. Soft whispers lisped back and forth above me. It sounded like someone was crying. Something crackled and popped close by. The smell of smoke tickled my nostrils. It didn't smell like an ordinary fire, though. It burned so hot the heat of it reached me where I lay. A pulsing warmth was flashing along the left side of my body, and there seemed to be more light coming from that direction even through my closed lids. I puzzled over the scents; woodfire, vegetation, and burnt sugar.

"James," I muttered as understanding dawned; they were burning him. The cold hand holding mine tightened.

"We got him, babe." It was Emmett, but his voice sounded thick and tight. I tried to open my eyes. I tried to sit up to find out what was wrong but found I couldn't move my body at all. The pain from my abdomen was immense but comparatively muted, and I seemed to have no control over my muscles.

"What's happening?" I asked, horribly alert now. I clenched my teeth to keep from screaming and spoke through them. "Where is everyone?"

"There's a lot of blood, La," Carlisle said from my other side. "It's safer this way."

I forced my eyes open to peer over at Emmett and saw the strain across his shoulders, the agony in his face.

"Are you okay?"

"Me?" Emmett shook his head. "You've got to be kidding me."

"Am I dying?" I asked. Emmett's face crumpled at my question.

"We couldn't save you," he said in a cracked voice. "He… he hurt you too badly."

"Oh," I said. My eyes slid back shut. The effort of keeping them open becoming too much. Did that mean even venom wouldn't work for me? Was this the end?

"It's time," Carlisle said.

"I can't do it," Emmett replied in a horrible broken whisper. "I'll kill her."

"She's already dying," Carlisle responded. "I've stopped the blood the best I can, but you need to make a decision now. She won't make it to the hospital at this point."

Emmett let out a strangled cry that sounded very much like sobbing.

"Can you do it?" he asked Carlisle.

"No," Carlisle responded. "I need to concentrate on keeping pressure here. The venom won't help if she bleeds out and her heart stops before it spreads."

"I can't…" Emmett mumbled.

"Emmett," I forced my eyes back open to see his face. Even if I died, I wanted him to be the last thing I saw. "It's time."

"I'm so sorry, La," he leaned over me and pressed a kiss to each of my eyelids.

"Don't give up on me," I plead. "You can do this."

He sobbed again. "Okay," he said. "Okay…" He lowered his head but kept a firm grip on my hand.

A brief prick of pain lanced through my left collarbone, and then my right leaving twin spots on my chest that felt like I'd been scalded with a red hot smithing iron. It spread along my chest and up my neck, as though someone had set my shirt on fire.

Another lancing prick inside each of my elbows radiated more fire, and last sets on both of my thighs, followed by my ankles made my entire body feel as though it had been engulfed in flames.

"There's so little blood flowing," Emmett said. "Will it be enough?"

"We can only hope, son."

There had to be enough! It didn't seem fair that I should die, and still suffer this way. Especially not this fiery, horrible, feeling of incineration. Was this the horrible pain they all told me about? A voice trickled through my misery speaking quietly and too quickly for me to understand.

"Emm…" I couldn't finish his name as scorching waves rolled over me.

"I'm right here," he answered.

"Hurts," I said.

"I know, babe."

"It burns!" I shrieked. I tried to sit up, to get away from this awful sensation. Emmett caught me and forced me back down. He looked terrible, as though someone were holding red hot pokers to his body as well.

"Please forgive me, Delilah," Carlisle begged. "We couldn't bring ourselves to lose you."

His words steadied me. There were a million things I wanted to say; sorry for putting your family through this, thank you for accepting me, for giving me Emmett, I'm so glad I met you… but all I could manage was a weak squeeze of his arm before my entire body became an inferno.

My toes curled, my fingers clenched, and my back arched off the ground at the pain of it. I was screaming again, begging them to make it stop. Flames lapped at my skin, the burning hot pokers were now being pressed into my flesh from all angles. I screamed and screamed until my body went limp. The fire proceeded to scorch through me, but I was rendered incapable of responding.

"Do you think the morphine is working?" I heard before my ears melted.

"I don't know," another voice responded. "I certainly hope so, but we weren't going to be able to move her screaming like that, so it's doing enough. Lift her up. I'm going to bind her wound more tightly."

Lava had replaced my blood. It was the only sensible explanation. Soon it would poor out of my eyes, and my flesh would melt from my bones to leave a blackened skeleton. What else could this torture mean?

If it were possible I would beg, I would claw my way out of my skin, but I found I could not move at all. Dimly, I recognized the small mention of morphine. They must have pumped me full of the opioid, probably hoping my lack of screaming meant it was keeping the worst of the pain at bay. I had no concept of time, but it was fully possible they were continuing with a morphine drip. It would explain my inability to move.

I wished they wouldn't. Not being able to react at all, not even to cry through it meant I was stuck drowning within an endless sea of suffering with no hope of release.

If I were capable of fully articulating thoughts I'd like to think I would have been thankful the Cullens had saved me. As it were I just wanted it to end. I prayed for death. Anything would be better than this relentless pain, but it persisted, and so did my heart.

Somewhere deep in my subconscious I knew my heart was still beating because I could hear it. At the time I didn't know what was making the faint thumping noise. It was distant but steady like the ticking of a clock. By the time I was cognizant of the fact the sound was irritating me, I was also aware that I could feel my toes. This realization made me consider the fact that I was finally thinking in a coherent manner. It must be nearly over, but I wished that ticking would stop.

Instead, it strengthened into the consistent beating of a metronome; loud, and steady. I could envision the swinging of the counting mechanism, back and forth, back and forth.

Some time passed and I could feel my hands. Only when the metronome skipped did I finally understand the sound was my heart beating, and it was failing.

"Did you hear that?" a voice mumbled. There was a responding shift of fabric.

The fire retreated to my knees and my elbows. The skin left over felt galvanized and new. It was as if I could feel myself becoming a new person by inches.

I could now feel my face, but still couldn't open my eyes or respond to the stimuli around me. My heart skipped again, and suddenly I became aware of swirling air around me. It brought a host of scents with it; pine, mineral-laden water, freshly turned earth, white pepper, citrus, and a million other things I couldn't begin to identify.

A pressure built in my chest and my heart began to race, thumping erratically. I couldn't breathe from the weight crushing me. Whatever it was I wanted to fight it off, run away, survive- but still, I couldn't move.

"One minute," a voice said. "I'm going to get the mirror!" There was more shifting fabric and the sound of steps hurriedly retreating. When they returned, I could hear that they pressed more heavily into the floor. Something metallic settled on to the hardwoods and clicked against the wall.

My heart reached a fever pitch, beating so frantically and loudly it blocked out all other sound. Sharp searing pains stabbed through my chest again and again. The pressure on my diaphragm increased like ton weights being stacked up.

Someone spoke, but I couldn't make out what they said over the sound of my heart. The pain pressed into my chest in one final, brutal spike and suddenly it was over. The silence was absolute for a frozen second before a rush of smells and sounds battered my senses. It was too much. I squeezed my eyes shut tightly and held my breath.

"La?" a voice whispered. "Are you with us?"

"Of course she's with us, Jasper. Don't be silly."

Their voices were clearer than crystal. I marveled at it. I could hear every change in pitch, volume, and tone effortlessly.

Ever so slowly I opened my eyes.

Emmett waited patiently beside me, beaming with pride.


	24. Epilogue

**A/N: **Here we are, the end of the line. Thank you so much for taking this journey with me! I hope you enjoyed the ride. Please, please, leave me feedback! I'd love to hear from you and to discover ways of making my writing better and more enjoyable.

**Music Note:** First, Meet me at the Moon, by Imelda May. For the second part The Bottle Called, by The Koffin Kats

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**EPILOGUE**

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Grief had driven my family together. My sister moved to California to be closer to our mother. Her kids now spent every weekend with their grandmother. I hoped the closeness acted as a balm for the months they believed me dead. For all they knew, James had killed me and gotten away.

There had been a massive fire at the Dogpatch docks. An abandoned warehouse had blazed so viciously an army of firefighters couldn't save it. The entire thing had crumpled into the bay. My mother got a lawyer, absolutely sure I'd been in the warehouse when it sank. Some rideshare driver was fairly certain he'd dropped a woman off at those docks the day of the fire. The woman he'd given a ride to matched my description so perfectly he could have sworn we were one and the same. My mother and her lawyer convinced the SFPD to drag the bay for my body but of course, they came up with nothing.

Sixteen months later I watched my family through the windows of my mother's living room, perched comfortably in a tree. My uncle had come down from Washington to visit. He was on the couch next to my step father who had my niece in his lap, helping her build a car out of Legos. My nephew was sprawled on the giant, circular paisley rug building the USS Enterprise with expert movements. I drank the sight in.

Emmett had warned me that I shouldn't come. That it was better they think me dead, but I didn't agree. Even if I never saw them again I wanted them to know James hadn't won. That I would be okay.

Even if I hung from that tree all night this would never become easier. It was time.

I slid silently from my perch and walked to the front door where I placed a small, brown, rectangular package on the welcome mat. I stood looking at it for a second, feeling my eyes tighten. It was no longer possible for me to cry, but at times like this I wished I was able.

The package was crooked. I straightened it and propped a tiny card against the package's side, then knocked on the door quietly and fled toward my previous perch. Emmett stood waiting obscured by the darkness surrounding my mother's oddity of a bungalow. I took his hand but remained defiantly in the semi-circle of light cast by a lamp on the door. Emmett tugged me gently, but I stood my ground.

I watched through the window as my uncle waved at Roger to stay where he was, stood, and approached the door. My mother and sister were in the kitchen, too distracted by conversation and wine to notice either my knock or his movements.

Kevin peered through the windows in the door and seeing nothing opened it. Finding an empty doorstep, he looked further down the walkway toward the gate by the sidewalk. When he found that empty as well he turned his attention to the package at his feet. At first, he looked confused, a frown tugged the corners of his mouth. He flipped the card over and noticed it was addressed to him. Did he recognize the handwriting?

He cautiously opened the envelope, careful not to tear the paper. Inside was a small, plain white square with a line drawing of a candy skull on the front. Inside were written three words.

"I made it," followed by my signature looping L. His jaw dropped, and he gasped. There was anger on his face, disbelief, rage, sorrow, and pain. Then he looked up quite suddenly, as though he could sense my presence and met my eyes. His heart raced audibly. He stumbled sideways but caught the door jam to hold himself up. I saw his lips tighten, ready for a shout into the house, but I locked his eyes with mine and shook my head steadily. I lifted a finger to my lips in a sign of quiet, gave him a nod, then slipped into the darkness beside Emmett.

"Kevin?" I heard my mother call into the hallway from the kitchen. "What is it? Was someone at the door?"

"There's a package," he called back. His words sounded strangled as he glanced back toward where I'd disappeared.

"From whom?" My mother asked. "At this time of night?"

"I think you'd better open it," he said and shut the door.

Kevin joined my mother and sister in the kitchen where he placed the little package on the island between them. His back was toward me, blocking my view of the package. He made another quick glance in my direction, toward the bay windows behind him before choosing to stand on the opposite side of the island facing the glass. Another wave of emotion rolled through me. He'd moved so I could see them open my gift. My eyes burned with unshed tears. Emmett gripped my hand tightly.

I watched as my sister picked up the package curiously and pulled on the twine bow on top until it came free. My mother pulled a sharp knife out of the drawer and handed it to Eleanor so she could cut the tape on either end. Inside was a small white, rectangular box of the type one would normally gift jewelry. Eleanor lifted the lid and peered inside.

"What is that?" My mother asked, doubtfully.

Eleanor stared at it. Kevin began to weep into his hands. He placed the little card on the counter top between them.

"It's the bird skull Kevin and I had preserved for Kala when she moved to Washington," Eleanor said finally.

"The one you were looking for when we cleared the house out?"

Eleanor nodded, mutely. She picked up the card and opened it. Her eyes darted between the three words and the signature multiple times before she finally smiled. Tears leaked from her eyes.

"She's running," she said. "But she's safe."

My mother snatched the card from my sister and stared at the inside. After a second of silence, she slumped to the floor, card pressed against her chest. She started sobbing uncontrollably there on the kitchen tiles. My sister rounded the island and joined her, holding her tightly. Kevin knelt beside them and completed the pile.

I stayed for a few more moments, taking in the sight of them together. This memory of them would have to feed my soul for a very long while.

Emmett and I turned together and headed into town. We had work to do. This visit with my family wasn't the reason we'd come to San Francisco. There was someone stalking the streets here, kidnapping women and leaving them broken and bloodied in the streets for all to see.

I found my purpose in this second life. No more would a person be hurt the way James had hurt me. Not if I could prevent it.

We were nearly too late. By the time we found the twisted individual that had been terrorizing the women of San Francisco he'd already chosen his next victim. Emmett and I flew over rooftops, jumping over alleyways listening hard for their trail.

They were just outside the Tenderloin. He was dragging her by the hair down a dank alley. They seemed to be heading for a dilapidated wooden door tucked beneath a fire escape on the side of a building. There was no telling what type of untold horrors awaited the woman in there.

She was screaming and clawing at her captor's hands in desperation. The screeches were loud, hopeless, and heartrending. Each one pierced me through my core. I stalled on the edge of the rooftop directly above them and reached for Emmett's hand. Once found, I shut my eyes and dug within myself, searching. I found the knot of tension deep inside my belly and tugged on it until I heard all movement in our immediate vicinity stop, the piercing screams halted. When I opened my eyes the two figures below were frozen solid, the woman pulling violently away, the man's face caught in a familiar rictus.

Emmett didn't hesitate before jumping down to the street. I followed suit, landing in front of the man to study him. He looked nothing like my own tormenter. Tall and dark where James had been sturdier and fair, but he carried the same expression. The same tightness around the mouth, the same mania in the eyes.

In the end, they were all the same. They all died the same.

Emmett had dropped down beside the woman and was carefully disentangling her from the man's clutches. Once she was free he swept her away a safe distance. I stroked my quarry's face. He jumped to life instantly and fell back a few steps away from me.

"Who the fuck are you?" His accent was bland, his voice unmemorable. I smiled coldly. He stumbled back a few more steps. "Where's my..." he looked around wildly. "What's going on? Where'd you come from?"

"Who are you looking for?" I asked him quietly. "Where's your _what_?" I hissed out the last word.

"Hey now! I-I don't know what you thought you saw, lady," he was backing away steadily now. "We were just having a good time."

"A good time for whom?" I spat.

"It's not that big of a deal! We can just walk away from this, right? No need for any problems." He realized he was in trouble. His hands were up making broad placating gestures. I could hear his teeth chatter as he trembled violently.

"No problems? Who would have the problems, pray tell? Not you, I'm sure. And why should you? No use ruining your life over twenty minutes of action, am I right?"

"Right... yeah! Exactly." He attempted a smile but it fell short.

"Exactly," I grinned savagely. The smell of urine wafted over me as his pant leg darkened. "Don't worry, this will be our little secret."

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**The End**

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Thank you one million more times for reading!

For those of you that loved this story, and want more La/Emmett, I have begun writing the companion story told from Emmett's point of view. You'll find it on my homepage. It is called And We Ran.

s/13436454/1/And-We-Ran

In it you'll find a lovely look inside Emmett's head, and a closer inspection of the relationships between himself and his siblings. I am having a lot of fun writing it- join my journey, and as always: feedback is MUCH appreciated! Favorite, Follow, and Review!


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